Everything In Transit
by passionatelysimple
Summary: Derek's in search of a story and he knew of only one thing that could possibly qualify as a guaranteed dose of inspiration: a road trip. Dasey
1. One

_**A/N: **_My friend decided to celebrate her half birthday this year and this was my gift. She thought it would be a great idea to share it with everybody on here and viola – the first chapter. Special thanks as always to Carie Valentine for reading through this and Phoebe for being my unofficial sounding board (and official president of my fan club). I appreciate it!

Happy Half Birthday Ash…I'd be rolling my eyes now if it was physically possible to do so via text.

_**Disclaimer: **_The characters of Life with Derek are the property of the Family channel. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Everything In Transit**

**One**

He had always been a storyteller. Stories could be anything he wanted them to be because they existed on a plane that defied all laws and used a machete to cut through red tape. A person's imagination ran the show and their muse ran wild in a vast white room just waiting for colour paint. And any place without rules and expectations was a place Derek Venturi wanted to get lost in.

As a kid, stories of being the hero and saving the girl flittered through his mind in the full Technicolor Dreamcoat hue spectrum. He'd never had the gift for words but learned that a story didn't need them if it had the right pictures. His first grade teacher droned on about the importance of spelling and printing while Derek was drawing out the scenarios in his language book—evidently his teacher recommended he be held back a grade.

Then one night, while his mother had been screaming and his father yelled back, his brother crawled into his bed and they both sat and listened in silence. Eventually, Marti started to cry and the roar of words stopped downstairs, but the damage had been done. They tried to explain to him why his mother was leaving. His father stumbled through the whole conversation while his mother stood behind him offering a variation of synonyms in agreement to his father's words. And maybe they underestimated him because as Derek sat in front of his parents trying to understand why they were telling a story that wasn't true, he wondered why his mother didn't correct his father for not saying he was sleeping with his law secretary like she had screamed yesterday. In Derek's confusion, only one thing was crystal clear: stories that weren't the truth weren't as wrong as he thought they were.

His parents had overcompensated for Marti's fifth birthday—everyone there knew it but nobody dared to utter why. Joyful clowns, jumping castles and ice cream cake in the park for his sister's entire kindergarten class was a handful for the best of couples but for two people that barely tolerated each other, it was complete mayhem. Derek was too old for clowns by then, jumping castles too if he wasn't being totally truthful, so he was only there for his sister—and the cake. But Marti had her friends and the cake wasn't until after presents so Derek busied himself with the Gameboy he stole from Edwin who was apparently still young enough for balloon animals.

His father appeared, shoving the family's bulky camcorder into his lap and instructing him to film before running after a boy who was seconds from taking a header out of a tree. As Derek looked through the lens, his whole world seemed to square in on the tree the camera just happened to be facing towards. The way the entire picture changed if he moved just slightly or the how the sun looked shining down on a little girl running passed with a smile smeared in melting chocolate. That familiar feeling he had as a little boy whenever he saved the girl in his carefully illustrated stories came whirling back and somehow he knew just the story he wanted to tell. He went and found his sister.

Now he was sitting in his room, nineteen years old and spinning around in his desk chair hoping for inspiration to guide him in the direction of finding a story in the sea of footage cluttering his hard drive. His offer into Queen's University was still conditional pending an interview with the director of the Film and Media department, as his transcript was less than exceptional. Derek had two months to put together the greatest portfolio that old man had ever seen—he had taken pictures and located letters of reference, now all he needed was a video.

And yet, as he scrolled through his footage, he was still uninspired. Casey flossing, Casey yelling, Casey tripping, Casey yelling again, Marti playing with Dimi, Lizzie playing soccer, his father and Nora dancing, Emily smiling, Sam and Ralph bordering alcohol poisoning at graduation—god it was any wonder why he had nothing.

When had his vision turned into mediocre snapshots of convenience? He couldn't even impress his family with this and they were conditioned to be supportive of everything he did—Casey withstanding but he'd given up on expecting her to fall in line a long time ago.

What the hell was he going to do?

His door slammed open and he abruptly stopped mid-spin, grabbing onto the edge of his desk so he wouldn't lurch out of the chair.

In strolled, Casey. Her special brand of insults at his expense was exactly what he needed right now—sarcasm, clearly. It was going to take everything he had left to keep up with her attempts at making sense and he really just wanted to stew in his frustration alone.

"_Der-ek_! How could you?"

Her arms were flailing to the same beat her head was whipping back and forth and he absently found it amusing that she reminded him of the incapacitated seagull that loitered outside Smelly Nelly's. That and she lost him already.

"Well, I'm just that awesome, I suppose," he drawled, wondering if that even made any sense.

He decided Casey's reaction would be humourous if he talked to her in gibberish so he ended up not caring either way.

"You broke up with, Emily! How is that awesome?"

She was pecking again and waving her arms in an attempt to fly towards him. Derek scratched the back of his neck, not exactly sure what to say. He supposed he should have thought about Casey's need to take on battles that were already over—maybe there was a time delay way up on her pedestal that was just about crushing her horse—because taking that into account would really keep these situations down to a minimum.

"What business is it of yours? And if you're going to pull out the best friend card, don't bother. You've been so consumed with Frenching Frenchie that you didn't know a thing about our relationship."

He went back to sorting through his files—or more like dragging them to the trash—while he gave Casey time to think of a retort. Somehow in the midst of shortening her skirts and loosening her legs for her weasel in a bag, she had lost the stellar wit and vocabulary that made her who she was. It was kinda sad really and she just wasn't interesting anymore.

Casey giggling was going into the trash—she didn't giggle and he didn't understand why he'd waste his time filming that. This video might be a lot harder than he thought.

"I don't care what you think, Der. The fact that Emily has spent the last couple weeks shacked up in her room is proof enough for me."

He winced slightly; Derek never wanted to hurt her. He tried to explain that he couldn't be what Emily wanted him to be when she basically offered herself to him a couple weeks after the prom. He wasn't going to be that guy unless he loved her, and surprise, surprise, he didn't feel anything close. She was important to him though and he had made a mistake letting the line he had spent so many years drawing between them blur.

"Can we just drop this, Casey? I'm not really in the mood right now for relationship advice, especially from somebody like you."

Derek hadn't looked at her yet in favour of watching the files disappear from his computer screen so he didn't know how hard the barb hit. All he had left were a couple videos of Marti and one of Casey's dance competition he had yet to burn for Nora. He could probably do that now, actually.

"…are you even listening to me?"

Oh, shit, she had been talking all this time. He thought it had been another lull their arguments were now so accustom too. It didn't matter though; it was an easy fix.

"Not really. You never say anything important anymore," he commented, until he realized what he said. "Or ever."

It was half-hearted, he knew, but he just really didn't want to argue with her. He had other things to worry about and the troubled life of Casey McDonald that everyone and their sister warned her about when she started to date True-Loser was not on the list. Derek was a believer in learning from your mistakes—hell it was all he ever did—and he'd let her tumble down that hill for a little while longer before he came tumbling after.

"What are you doing?"

This surprised him; the fact that she was right next to him and he hadn't noticed was somewhat terrifying. He inched away on his chair in the pretense of putting a DVD into his computer tower.

"Burning a video," he replied absently while he dragged the video into the proper folder.

She instantly recognized it and it wouldn't be long until she'd rip off her shirt and display her Captain Obvious costume hiding underneath. It was just like Casey to be afraid of flying and spend her days driving around in an RV constantly on the lookout for blatantly obvious things to explain to the general public, making the fact she had a costume not all that surprising.

"That's my dance competition."

And really, did she have to make it so easy all the time?

She was leaning in further and Derek inched away again—no pretense this time. She didn't seem to notice; she was too busy watching the video. The orchestra picked up in the classical number playing in the background while Casey leaped across the stage apparently showing her 'internal struggle' or at least that was what Lizzie had said when Edwin asked.

"I recorded it for Nora since I didn't really care about missing anything and I had a better angle."

He had to say, he had done a pretty good job. It had been the first thing he had recorded with the new camera he had bought with the gift cards his father so lovingly picked out for him for Christmas. The analog beast his father purchased sometime during a World War was finally laid to rest beside his father's 'nostalgic chest' in the attic. The amount of leather in that thing was just disgusting.

The CD popped out, seconds after the video had come to an end. Derek grabbed a sharpie from under a stack of college course books, resting centimetres away from the hip Casey had casually leaned against his desk whilst watching herself dance, and scribbled a title on the blank silver disk. Snapping the case closed, he stood up abruptly and smirked in Casey's general direction.

"Always a horror speaking to you, Casey. Dreading our next meeting as always," he quipped and was out the door seconds later.

He briefly wondered why he was leaving her in his room, considering all the spiteful things he knew she was capable of. Of course that was pre-idiot, and he'd really like to see new Casey even try.

Nora was downstairs, in the kitchen cooking. He had mixed feelings as the smell of tofu reached his nose already baking away in the oven. His step mother must have spotted the grimace on his face because she laughed.

"Don't worry, the Tofu is for, Casey. Leftover chili for you."

He smiled at this and absently nodded his approval before sliding the CD across the counter her way.

"Casey's dance competition as promised."

She picked it up and smiled up at him. It was weird, Nora always had the ability to make him feel accomplished, even when he was just handing her something as mundane as a CD. He liked that—it was nice.

"Thank you, Derek," she smiled before her look turned curious. "Still having problems with the video?"

He was surprised she knew, but then again Nora just seemed to know these things. It was one of those 'mother's intuition' things he was still getting used too, since he only ever witnessed his mother's enough times that he could count on one hand.

"Yeah, I guess," he mumbled.

Nora saw right through his evasive answer but he couldn't say he was that surprised again.

"Having problems getting inspired?"

She seemed to know what she was talking about but he supposed she was used to similar circumstances as an interior designer. Maybe Nora could help, she seemed eager for the after school special moment that was fast approaching and he really had no clue what to do.

"All of the video I have just isn't inspiring. It's hard to tell a good story when you have crap to start with."

He looked at her, waiting for her to help him come to an astounding realization and for cheesy music to play. It was an acceptable price to pay if it helped him.

"Well, I know nothing about telling stories, but maybe you just need to create a story and then figure out how to film it," she smiled helpfully. "And I don't mean writing a script and forcing the family to play along. That was horrible enough the first time."

Nora's face was amusing—eyes wide and shifty with her mouth drawn into a frown. Casey's quest for a dream family was the stuff nightmares were still made of, apparently. But he took her advice under advisement and wandered upstairs. Casey wasn't in his room, and he smiled slightly when he realized the stack of CDs he had near his computer monitor had magically decreased in size.

New Casey was apparently a kleptomaniac.

Lucky for her, he had more pressing matters then going to get his CDs back. It wasn't like they'd go very far anyways and he could just take something of value from her to make up for it later. She had been stealing his CDs for years—though he was sure she thought he had no idea—and hey, he was just happy to educate the music illiterate. Anyways, on to more pressing matters.

Create a story…how did he go about doing that?

He'd always looked at his footage and let the story form itself from the jumbled pieces. The few times he came up with a story on the fly it had always been in the moment, looking around and forming it from cues he'd seen in the situation.

So maybe he needed to find a situation—or better yet, make one.

He had one month: half to film, half to edit—meaning whatever he came up with had to be a 'like it was yesterday' type thing. And he knew of only one thing that could possibly qualify as a guaranteed dose of inspiration in that time frame.

A road trip.


	2. Two

**Two**

Casey came to his room the next night like he knew she would. He had actually been expecting her presence earlier but as she burst in with crazy hair and modest clothing his interest in the situation spiked.

"Spacey, hello. What a horrible surprise!"

His enthusiasm was fake but his words were real because it was a surprise to see her here—like that. It had been the first time he'd called her anything resembling a nickname in a long time because the girl he had been living with for the past few months was an imposter who didn't deserve it. But, track pants, a t-shirt and ponytailed hair were just so Casey, and he couldn't help it.

"Aren't you going to invite me?"

He never expected her to ask outright, she was more passive aggressive than that. She'd skirt around this issue trying to coax him into asking until he infuriated her enough that she blurted it out involuntarily. Their fights were as scripted as MTV and Casey hadn't been all that great with improv—until recently.

"Invite you?"

He was goading her with a little creative license of his own. If she asked, he could just chalk it up to getting his cues wrong after the massive rewrite their script had undergone when Casey renegotiated her contract and relegated him to 'same difference,' a reoccurring guest star. She wouldn't be able to argue otherwise.

"On your trip. It would be a good educational experience…what?"

Her question meant his face wasn't the impassive stare he had been going for—but he had never really been a good actor, just a great liar like dear old dad. Yeah, he was still a bit bitter about that night.

Casey was looking at him with an odd mix of apprehension and inquiry. He'd never really seen that combination swirl through her eyes before but it made them the most amazing colour of blue. He wished he could take a picture of it, but the colour would fade the minute he reached for his camera.

"You can't come," he said instead.

She instantly took on her patented indignant pose—arms grasping her slender hip, eyes dark and narrowed that popped against the red tint of her face—and Derek felt like he was in the twilight zone. Hadn't she been in his room just yesterday grasping at straws for comebacks in her barely there clothing? That Casey was clearly not this Casey—and now she was making him sound insane.

"Why not? I know you have room. Amanda told me you're renting a van and her, Ralph and Sam are going. I don't understand why you have—"

"I planned the trip and my plans don't involve you."

He was trying to marginally forget that Ralph's girlfriend, Amanda was leeching onto his good time. Couples anxiety after saying those three words was always so cute—not. But she was at least tolerable and it wasn't like she was interested in spending time with him. So car rides would be touch and go but he had an iPod and all the necessary cords to blast music from the van's speakers—he could deal. But Casey, she was a whole other problem ten dollars at 'Best Buy' couldn't solve.

"But we're going to university—"

"The same university and I'll be seeing enough of you there," he interrupted, already getting bored.

Did he forget to mention that his father, who looked for anyway to weasel out of paying for anything, predictably surprised him and Casey with an apartment—together, in Kingston? He had to admit, it was kind of admirable that his father finally stood up for something for the first time in his entire slacker parent existence. Derek was all for it, really—just his father couldn't have picked a worse thing to put his foot down for. Yeah, that phrase came up a lot during his surging power trip.

"I know but that isn't what I mean, I…"

She looked flustered and Derek was reminded of all the rare times she asked for his help with something. The reluctance shined so brightly in her eyes it was almost blinding because Casey hated to admit she was inept at anything or better yet that she flat out needed him. And because she was being all Casey-like and he was months out of practice, he adlibbed again.

"Give me one good reason why you need to go and I'll think about it."

"I already said—"

"Not want, need to go," he challenged and smiled at the moment Casey heard the other shoe drop.

Her mouth snapped shut and he waited patiently for something resembling an answer to tumble out of her mouth. He knew she couldn't come up with something besides the truth and she'd never tell him why she seemed to think she needed this trip so badly. It was admitting weakness and opening herself up to the vulnerability of rejection, something Casey McDonald never did no matter what personality she settled on today. So he smugly waited, deciding to use this latest lull to make sure all his film equipment was packed.

"I just…" she tried and he could feel the agony the game of tug-a-war was doing to her insides.

Not surprisingly, it didn't bother him in the slightest. He stayed silent until everything was packed and when he turned to tell her that time had expired—tears?

They were slowly sliding down her face and he followed them silently with his eyes. From blue eyes, to porcelain cheeks, the curve of her neck and—

"You're crying."

It was a statement of wonder because he was not expecting this. Casey jumped and started to furiously wipe her eyes, which only seemed to make matters worse. She was stumbling out of his room like a drunk sailor, tripping over her own feet and swaying in her attempt to stay upright. He didn't understand and she was already gone.

He hadn't heard the sounds of a body tumbling down the stairs so that was a positive to her miraculous drunk-sans-alcohol display. He didn't like alcohol much; sure he drank it but just to keep up appearances. After a while nobody around him noticed he'd been nursing the same bottle of beer all night because they were inebriated by a number in double digits.

He remembered one story quite early on in his life—he was five, maybe six. His mother had come home swaying dangerously and bumping into things as she fumbled for a light downstairs. Derek had crept to the stairs and peered between the bars shielded by the shadows of the upstairs hallway. His father was out and his older cousin Charlie was sleeping soundly in the guest bedroom, but Derek couldn't sleep after all the ice cream his cousin let him and Edwin eat. His mother finally managed to flick on the switch to the lamp before she tripped over the couch and landed beside the coffee table. Derek was about to go see if she was okay, when he heard her start to cry. He thought she was hurt but then she got up and sat on the couch with her head in her hands. She was still crying and Derek had sat there until she cried herself to sleep.

That was a month before the fight that ended his parent's relationship and as Derek grew older with the story still fresh in his mind the pieces came together effortlessly. Since then the smell of alcohol always made him queasy and he briefly wondered if even way back then he could smell the vodka that made his mother sway.

Hockey was on, so he decided to go downstairs and watch that. His father had finally splurged for the premium channels when Nora complained about wanting to watch movies. 'Leafs TV' was replaying the playoffs and even if his favourite team hadn't made it there for many years, the intensity of playoff hockey was enough for any fan. There was at least one Canadian team in this round and Vancouver had a real shot to win—not really.

He watched the game, not that into it with the score already way in favour of the opposition. It was late and his family was asleep. His father had given him the safety—call every hour so we know you're alive—speech a couple hours before Casey stumbled her way into his room. He went on and on about a road trip being a right of passage for being a man before giving Derek his graduation gift early—apparently the apartment had really only been given with his father's best interests in mind like Derek had suspected.

But the laptop was nice. He knew his father didn't understand a thing about his dream and it was nice of him to make it seem like he wasn't holding out for an NHL star like Derek knew he was. Casey had received a laptop too and he found it utterly hilarious that he was a Mac and she was a PC—unfortunately nobody but Edwin found it funny too.

The game was in intermission and Derek switched the TV off. He found himself wandering into the kitchen to find some food. Leftover chili had been great—again—but was it really too much to ask for a little variety? When a little Casey voice started to berate him for his insensitivity he rolled his eyes and grabbed a box of cookies. Oreos were his favourite and he had shoved so much cookie pieces and crème into his mouth by the time he reached the top of the stairs, that it was disgusting.

He stopped mid-step outside Casey's door in the midst of the deafening sound of his chewing. The light was on so she wasn't asleep or passed out from her delightful drunk when sober state. Swallowing, he flung the door open and spotted her dramatically posed for misery on her bed—he can't be blamed for rolling his eyes.

"We leave at eight tomorrow. Be packed or stay home."

And he continued on his merry way towards his room, absently filling his mouth with more cookies and leaving a trail of crumbs behind him.

Maybe a glass of milk would find its way upstairs by following them—if he was lucky.


	3. Three

**Um…not much to say, just a thank you to those who have reviewed. Some are more fun to read then others but I enjoy feedback all the same. Onto part three…**

**Three**

Casey was waiting patiently on the couch when he stumbled down the stairs at seven the next morning. Her hands were clasped in her lap and his eyes went from the surprisingly acceptable amount of luggage resting near the door and back to her. One duffle bag and a backpack were unprecedented for Over-prepared McDonald but he was too tired to think any further on the matter right now.

He wiped the sleep from his eyes and she finally realized he was awake. Derek almost choked when she stood to greet him, anxiously fiddling with the edge of her light pink tank top that just settled against the navy of her jean Capris. She was dressed for a road trip, though he had no qualms that Casey didn't have attire for every occasion.

"I…um…couldn't load my bags because you have the keys to the van."

He looked at her more closely, finally realizing where this new personality had come from. She was scared he was going to take back her invitation. And he wasn't going to lie and say that the thought hadn't crossed his mind when he knew he'd get away with it. Nora and his father had pledged to stay out of it because apparently him and Casey needed to start dealing with their own conflicts as practice for when they moved in together. That sounded so wrong in a truthful kind of way—and the fact that it didn't make any sense was like a big neon sign of something ambiguous.

He needed some coffee and was even more surprised when there was coffee brewed in the pot. Nobody was awake this early on a Sunday morning and Casey didn't drink coffee—something about caffeine being worse then crack—so that meant she had made it for him. He knew she was standing behind him and he poured a mug of coffee to in some way silently thank her.

"The keys are on my desk," he added after considering how oblivious Casey was to the subtleties of life and his thank you.

Derek turned to look at her when he didn't hear her moving and she nodded briefly before backing out of the kitchen. She was such a weird girl.

He finished his coffee quickly and was up the stairs for a shower at the exact moment she came down with the keys. He briefly had a thought to bump her shoulder lightly in a 'same difference' kinda way until flashes of her losing her balance and tumbling down the stairs played out in his mind's eye.

They passed each other without incident.

He was showered and changed by seven-thirty and shoveling cereal into his mouth by seven-forty five. Casey was watching one of her 'One Tree Gossip Beach' shows that he could never distinguish because they were all the same and he just didn't care. Sam, Ralph and The Leech were waiting to be picked up. They had went and rented the van yesterday and stocked up on provisions for the trip. Their luggage was already packed in the van and their next destination was unknown—that was going to drive Casey nuts and he was going to love filming it to relive over and over.

He put his bowl in the sink and gave Casey a fifteen-minute grace period before he'd leave without her. She was in the van in eight sitting in the first row of seats in the back. He didn't mind; it gave him more distance between him and her notorious back seat driver.

She didn't seem interested in talking and he wasn't about to go against the script again so he turned on the radio for background noise. Today was supposed to be sunny and it was Barry Manilow's birthday—thrilling information that he didn't want to know.

He couldn't help but look into the rearview mirror and take in Casey's profile. She was leaning against the side of the van with her forehead pressed lightly against the glass as her eyes took in the boring scenery Sam's neighbourhood had to offer. Derek was well aware something changed between them—or at least something had changed for him since he couldn't really speak for this Casey.

Sure, she had changed when she hooked up with True-I'm not a-Man, but he didn't mind all that much. She had became less interesting in the conventional ways he was used to but she was still Casey if he squinted at the right times. But then that conversation they had in the kitchen under spotlights and darkness happened. And with that available for replay at sporadic intervals, it was hard to close his eyes before he saw too much.

She had come in and brought her script for once—neither of them fumbled a line or missed a beat until they came to familiar ground that always started or ended the majority of their arguments. Their related by association status—the step in front of their titles—and she had improved.

Same difference.

And he had looked down at his script confused and watched as his line was rewritten before his eyes.

Yeah, alright.

They didn't bother to kill him off or send him away so the fans had hope he'd return someday—they just cut down his lines and shoved him into the background with a second-tier storyline to contend with. He was a D-list actor in his own life story.

And the whole thing just didn't sit right with him and his pleas for a retake went unheard. But, now he was reluctantly back on board and following the script because he needed the job. Casey was wrong though; 'same difference' wasn't the same because if it were nothing would have changed. And when his contract was up, he'd adlib the hell out of that.

Sam was waiting outside and was surprised to see Casey. His eyes widened and he looked between them for about half a second before slamming the side door closed and opening the passenger side.

Next was Ralph's house that was only a couple minutes away. Amanda was supposed to be there too and if she wasn't Derek was leaving her behind just like he would have Casey. Unfortunately, that blonde head of hair was bouncing up and down beside her Ralphie the moment Derek came to a stop at the end of the driveway.

"This is just going to be so much fun!" she squealed and Derek absently wondered why she was sending a dirty look Casey's way.

Unless she was still mad about Ralph's crush on insanity—that would be ridiculous but totally true if the way she was obnoxiously kissing Ralph in the backseat had anything to say about it. Yeah, obnoxious kissing definitely had a lot to say.

"Maybe, we should…um…go," Sam murmured from beside him, obviously coming to the same conclusions.

Derek nodded quickly and the van lurched with the same urgency as his foot pressed onto the gas.

The sounds of saliva and lips crushing together was never appealing even when you were involved in the highly enjoyable activity and he was breaking out his iPod a lot earlier than expected.

Everyone looked thankful and he was happy to be of assistance, even though Casey's facemask of revulsion was highly amusing. She never did understand the intricacies of jealousy when it came to relationships. She was just so deliciously naive sometimes that Derek wanted to whisper dirty things to her on principle.

The ride was filled with a medley of rock that even Casey seemed to appreciate—he knew she stole his CDs for more than just her recitals and her softly singing along under her breath was his proof.

Ralph and the girlfriend came up for air somewhere between the traffic in Mississauga and the sign welcoming them to Toronto an hour after that.

"Dude, we have to stop in T.O, I promised Amanda I'd take her to the CN Tower."

Derek was just able refrained from questioning how in the heck the girl had missed every one of the twelve field trips they had taken there in elementary school. At any rate, he'd be able to get some pretty good shots from up there and Sam and Casey agreed already...

Great, the CN Tower—the first stop on his visionary quest for the story of a lifetime.

Yeah, he was worried too.


	4. Four

**Thanks for all the kind words; I love all of them :)**

**Four**

If he tilted the camera just right on the observation deck it looked like he was falling. His hand was twitching hoping he'd let it grab onto something and his legs tingled with the urge to run. It was exhilarating being at odds with himself but totally in control—it was the way he did things and a convoluted line was harder to walk than one would think. Of course the moment lasted about two point two seconds longer before a loud squeal from somewhere entirely too close to his person terrorized his eardrums.

The Leech and Ralph were making a go at a public indecency charge against a viewfinder that was definitely getting more than it bargained for, even if it was a looking glass. Casey was probably close by because after the incident in the elevator on the way up, girlfriend turned this family fun tourist attraction into the set of an amateur porn film. He didn't see why he had to suffer because Casey couldn't keep her hands to herself—even if it was an accidental touch on the arm in a crowded elevator car.

With the mood broken and the windows fogging up there was no point of staying out there any longer. He spotted Sam immediately because the toque was back and strutting its stuff in the middle of July. Yet, his best friend had no qualms about trying to chat up a bubbly blonde whose eyes were practically glued to the thing making her completely miss Sam's attempts at being suave. It was too painful to be funny and Derek had some more shots to get anyways.

The glass floor was calling his name or maybe it was the completely hilarious sight that greeted him when he looked over. There was Casey, feet at the edge of where floor meets glass, bent over and anxiously looking down. He was struck by the symmetry of it all: how she was off balance but still standing, how she was afraid to cross the line but couldn't resist taking a peak—he was instantly framing a shot.

Derek didn't know how long he watched her in the little display of his camera, as he moved slowly around her making sure to stay out of sight. There was one angle that he just couldn't shake the perfectness of—he felt like he was right beside her if he zoomed in close enough and she looked so vulnerable through the lens that he couldn't help pulling out his digital camera too. And it was during that rapid succession of snapshots, that he got an idea.

He was behind her in seconds after he'd put his cameras safely into the bag he had slung over his shoulder. She still hadn't noticed him and as he inched closer he reached forward as well until he was right behind her gripping her waist.

"What the—_Der-ek!_" she screeched while inadvertently jumping back and putting herself more securely in his clutches.

He smirked and leaned forward so his mouth was adjacent to her ear making it easier for him to talk and hold her in place as she tried to squirm away.

"You can't stay at the edge of the pool all your life, Spacey. Shall we toss you in and see if you sink or swim?"

And then he stepped forward, pushing her with him. She screeched girlishly as she tried to fight him off but when her feet touched glass her face went white and she refused to look down. When he was done laughing at her, he realized her nails broke the skin of both his arms, giving him the physical proof she was the Harpy he had accused her of being since the first time she had broken his name in that girly whine.

"Surprisingly you're not sinking. I thought for sure you'd go down with the ship," he commented in the mock surprised tone he had perfected too long ago.

"Let me go."

Her voice was so serious. It was one of those acidy scolding hot water tones she was so good at and he almost listened to her until he decided against it when she stubbornly continued to not look down. He tried to remember the exact combination of arrogance and annoying that got her off because dealing with Casey was one big science experiment. A slight miscalculation and he'd singe his eyebrows—he kinda really needed them to frame his face so it was a little bit of a delicate situation.

"Now Casey, you're already out here and me letting you go now would do nothing to change the fact that the only thing between you and freefalling to your death is a sheet of glass. So why don't you live a little and look down, just incase you don't live to see tomorrow."

He felt her stiffen and he knew he got it right because it wasn't just about the words; it was all about the tone. She read too much into things—it was just her crazy way. He'd say one thing and she'd hear another. Derek often wondered if it was why they argued so much, at least in the beginning because after a while he just said things to get a rise out of her for the simple reason that it was fun as hell—and she let him.

"Derek, just let me go, okay."

She tried again to break free again and her voice was all nasally and nervous sounding. It made him smile as he remembered the only other time he'd ever heard it like that. The county fair—it was a big old hick extravaganza and of course Casey wanted to go experience the whole event.

The hunt for somebody nerdy enough to go with her began with an unsurprising lack of results. Noel was out of town, unfortunately, since he'd be first on Derek's list too, if Derek was a loser who wanted to go see a bunch of farm animals and creepy carnis propositioning young girls with the lure of winning the big prize.

The situation became so dire that she had asked him and he obviously said no until the 'rents became dead set on it being a great bonding experience. And that breathless voice came at the top of the Ferris wheel along with a terrified face and an interpretive Lamaze class. He never did understand why she got on, and he had never asked—something in him didn't want to ruin the mystery of it.

"Look down and I will," he challenged and the sweet sound of victory chimed its way into his heart.

He knew he had won when she started to breath deeply—Casey only ever did that when she was gearing up for the plunge. He waited and she looked down. She had this look on her face that he couldn't explain. It was full of conflict—wonder, hope, despair and sadness all wrapped up in scotch tape just like the vase Marti broke when she was five. Casey bit her lip and he let her go, taking a step back when she didn't notice.

The shot was there again, and he wondered when Casey became such a source for amazing photography. He probably wouldn't get away with it but the director in him called for him to try anyways. His camcorder was out in record time and he held it at his waist, pointing it upwards to capture the incredibly unique look he'd become fascinated with. Derek was silently counting down the seconds until she'd scream his name but decided to slowly shift to in front of her anyways.

That was when she looked up but she didn't say anything. The amazement—was what he was calling it—in her eyes startled him a bit and he kinda wanted to know why. They were just so blue, sparkling with such vibrancy and life he hadn't seen in her for a very long time. And, he found himself thinking, that maybe, having her there was not so bad after all—if she stayed like this, that is. Quiet was interesting's beard until loud came riding into Caseytown and unfortunately for the quaint renaissance inspired village, loud was falling in love.

"Oh, you two are just so cute!"

Derek whirled around to locate the owner of that annoying peppy voice that sounded so familiar it made him shudder. For one long horrifying second he had thought The Leech had taken a break from 'Amanda Does Ralph' to look for a partner to live out her twisted threesome fantasy Ralph had brought up one day at lunch. Ruining his appetite on pizza day was just mean-spirited, now that Derek was thinking about it.

But lucky for him, it was a tiny brunette woman with spring-like curls wearing a white polo shirt that hung off her body like a bed sheet. Her smile was bright and Derek was too relieved she wasn't Jenna Jameson's wannabe understudy to care that she bounced around like she was on an invisible pogo stick.

"Oh, we're not together." Casey explained and Derek was just confused by the whole situation.

The bouncy brunette frowned and she actually looked disappointed enough that she caught Derek's full attention. He was about to ask what was going on—he was sure he missed something during his small break from reality—but she beat him too it.

"Oh, I guess I'll have to give the free dinner at 360 to that couple over there."

Derek looked to where she gestured and shuddered slightly at seeing Ralph's hand disappear where the last male visitor swore to have lost his watch. But, he wasn't wasting time reliving a conversation he finally accepted couldn't be bleached from his mind. Besides, he was letting an opportunity for free food escape him and that was just criminally negligent.

"Oh, she's just a kidder. Our relationship is just so new that sometimes we forget we've finally gotten to this point," he smiled and since he was doing this, he leaned closer to the bouncy brunette and whispered, "She's troubled by a so many past relationships, I think she was surprised that somebody as great as me would choice her."

He pulled back to look at Casey, whose eyes looked ready to tumble from their sockets, and pulled her closer to him so he could subtly grip her arm to warn her not to screw this up. It was a win-win for both of them: free food and an unobstructed view. There was no protective mesh in front of the glass up there, perfect for a wide shot of the city.

"Um…yeah," Casey blurted out once the pressure of his grip registered. "I couldn't believe I let myself pick a guy like him."

And he almost groaned at how obvious she looked—trying to inch away from him and looking at any place but where she should—not to mention how she totally screwed up their back-story. Casey was the worst liar on the face of the earth because even the cheerful pogo-jumping brunette didn't believe them. God, she was hopeless and doomed to live a life of boredom with weasel children named after salad dressing.

"Okay, I know you're not a couple but I really don't want to go over there and interrupt, that," the bouncy brunette voiced distastefully as she flung her hand in the direction of the porn set without looking. "So here, take the ticket. Who knows, you might find love by the time you leave and I'm going to find security or a really big hose....enjoy!"

She shoved the card into Derek's hand, and bounced off to places unknown. He couldn't believe his luck and was already half way to the elevator, stomach growling. The restaurant was supposed to be a handful of stars good so it was probably going to be the most fancy place Derek had ever stepped into. But, doing things he'd never done before was what this trip was about and more importantly it was free.

Kendra had wanted to go for their monthiversary and he had no doubt it had been Casey's doing the minute that garbage spewed from his ex-girlfriend's mouth. But, he supposed it was only fair since Nora stopped her from revenge via groin kick and he was mildly impressed by Casey's thirst for vengeance. Kendra had shown him all these reviews online going on and on about how romantic it was. He squashed that before it even started the moment he saw the prices.

Surprisingly, Casey was behind him when the elevator opened the attendant asked them where they were going. Nobody talked but it wasn't awkward so he didn't mind. The silence thing oddly made the trip faster and before he realized it they were sitting at a table for two decorated with an impeccably ironed white table cloth, three kinds of forks glittering under the chandelier above them and enough wine glasses that made the whole alcohol thing almost mandatory. The white roses were nice and perfectly placed off to the side of the table so couples could maximize on eye gazing and hand holding easily. Only Derek's hands were in his lap, Casey's were fiddling with her napkin and their eyes were looking out at the slowly changing view.

He pulled out his camera for something to do and set up a shot that caught the beautiful bouquet of roses and the glittering lake just before sunset behind them. Derek said nothing as he slowly panned back until Casey's face gazing out at the view also filled the screen beside the roses.

"That's a beautiful shot, sir," their waiter exclaimed from over his shoulder effectively breaking Derek's concentration and ruining the shot.

He slammed the display closed and stuffed his camera into his bag that he had hung over the chair. The guy was old, like his father old. His hair was long but slicked back in a version of the hair-do that John Travolta made famous whilst dancing on a car—Derek smiled somewhat at the thought. Marti got him to do some pretty horrendous things, like watching Grease with her and Casey horrendous.

"Um…what do we get free in this deal thing?" Derek inquired, feigning amnesia of anything he felt like.

He wasn't about to comment on what the guy said because it would turn into a full-fledged conversation with him talking about his vision—a vision he didn't have yet. That, or having to explain why Casey looked like the fakest girlfriend in the world.

"Appetizers, main course and a dessert. Beverages are included as well. The chef will pair wines to what you order if you so choose."

"I'll get an iced tea then, unsweetened."

The man nodded, jotting the order down before he turned to Casey. She looked apprehensive for some reason but Derek wasn't really interested in why. The menu was much more appealing—the quest for the perfect combination of foods to make up the best meal ever was going to be hard work.

By the time he was paying attention again, the waiter was gone and Casey was looking at her own menu. He'd been so focused he had missed what she ordered, but he was hungry so it didn't surprise him as much as one would expect.

"What did you get?"

Casey looked up at him, confused for a moment before she figured out what he was asking. "The wine, Chardonnay. It's kind of funny that I'm drinking and you're not," she pointed out, smiling slightly at the situation she obviously found humourous.

And they were talking like they hadn't done in a while so Derek decided to be a normal person and not the jackass he usually was the moment Casey stepped into a room. Besides, it would be pretty hard explaining why he treated his 'girlfriend' with the care of a Prodigy song.

"I'm not a big drinker."

She looked shocked and he didn't blame her. Casey was always gullible to the things Emily told her she heard from a friend of a friend. Now that he thought about it, his ex-girlfriend was probably the reason why his reputation as a party animal was still alive and kicking. The one thing he disliked about Emily was she spoke about things she didn't understand with little proof to back up her claims except her own opinion. It had drove him up the wall while they were dating, her gossip addiction too—especially that.

"Why not?"

She looked so genuinely interested with this soft velvety voice that he almost blurted out the truth in surprise. She hadn't questioned him, hadn't accused him of lying—she really did nothing but believe him. The ever-changing personalities of Casey McDonald gave him a headache and really the writers needed to make up their damn mind. For once, he just wanted to know what to expect because even when he thought he had the upper hand she'd sweep the game board of all its pieces and her reasoning would be whatever feeling ball she picked out of the lotto machine. God, she was such a weird girl.

"It's just not something I like doing unless I have too."

He knew he intrigued her more with his open-ended answer because her eyes went softer and she leaned in unconsciously like she always did when anybody neared the universe of heart-to-heart with Casey. Still this was so far away from that galaxy that he really wanted to roll his eyes at the whole situation but he supposed this was as close as they ever got since they never did this—well, almost never. The bathroom, the Max break up, Sally's infamous love song, the 'same difference' rewrite—all these things started swirling through his head like they were torturing him because he momentarily forgot they existed.

"Appetizers!" he coughed and Casey was looking at him like he'd just screamed bloody murder, which technically he kind of did. "Do you want…to order appetizers?"

"Um…sure."

She was still looking at him like he had a second head and lucky for him their waiter was coming back with their drinks. Old guy had impeccable timing.

"Drinks," the man exclaimed laying out what they ordered with a careful ease. "And are you ready to order appetizers?"

"I'll have the calamari."

He winced at the very obvious waver in his voice but thankfully neither Casey nor the waiter commented—Derek was realizing he must have missed Old guy's name too. Thankfully, his subconscious finally got bored with tormenting him and he took a long drink from his iced tea in hopes of calming the tingling in his limbs.

Casey ordered the Bruschetta the moment his phone called out with a text message. He flipped it open and scanned the text quickly. Apparently the porn shoot was over or security raided the old set and they were relocating to the 'Himalamazon Motion Theatre Ride.' Poor Sam, walking into a dark room with company that's only interest was playing find the disco stick—well, he was sure his best friend would have lots of fun.

"They're going to some Theatre Ride."

Casey nodded whilst slowly swirling her wine in her glass—it was kind of hypnotizing the way the wine grabbed onto the sides and slid down in thick syrupy lines to where it started. Sinful things always looked the most alluring.

"Well, I'm glad I'm here and not in the dark with Amanda and Ralph," Casey murmured.

Her face scrunched up in disgust and Derek couldn't stop the laughter from tumbling out of his mouth. He watched as Casey went through her own stages of grief and then laughter of her own. Every feeling was spotlighted on her face determined to use their ten minutes of fame to tell a story, but only at the end, when everything came together, was it understood exactly what was being said. It was a perfect way to tell a story—through emotions, through feelings—through pictures just like he had when he was younger.

"Derek, are you okay? You're foods been sitting in front of you for ten minutes and you haven't even noticed."

He looked down, and she was right. How long had he zoned out? It didn't matter, it was worth it—he'd got his first taste of inspiration. The trip was actually working and he found a rekindled sense of excitement for what was to come.

And surprisingly, he had Casey to thank. She was always her most helpful when she kept her damn mouth shut and while he loved the quiet—so much he'd have sex with it—he still kinda hoped she'd talk about something instead of sitting in silence.


	5. Five

**Five**

It was late and Sam was driving. He had volunteered and Derek suspected it had something to do with his trip into the dark with everyone's favourite couple—but some things were best left unsaid. The sex-crazed duo had finally tuckered themselves out and were snoring lightly in the back while Casey had curled up in the passenger seat dead to the world the moment they hit the highway. That left the middle seat for him and he had his legs stretched out and his laptop resting safely on his thighs.

Sam slammed the driver's side door in search of gas as Derek played back some of the footage he had shot. He was amazed at how much better it was than the junk he had been reviewing yesterday. The lighting was fabulous, the frames were set up correctly and each clip had something compelling that drew the audience in. He found himself coming back to one in particular rewinding it over and over to just watch the fluidity of it all. The restaurant with the white roses and Casey who was looking out at the skyline, bangs just tickling her cheek with this look in her eyes that drew you in and spit you out the moment you got too close. It was the kind of shot that broke your heart and blew your mind leaving you dazed and confused with broken compasses to rely on for direction—or at least he'd imagine.

Not many people knew Derek Venturi had more substance than what you see is what you get. He was a ladies man and probably always would be, enjoyed hockey for its physicality and fast pace—but he also drew in a dog-eared sketch book that was wedged underneath his mattress when he just couldn't take it anymore or had actually been to the art museum in town by choice when Jeff Wall's collection opened. There was a lot nobody knew because for every brash part of his personality there was just a little bit of careful mixed in for things that mattered most. Maybe, he'd always be typecast as the chauvinistic sex-crazed popular jock with few brain cells and lots of notches on his bedpost. And that was kinda okay, because he was that guy, but more.

Wow, he needed some coffee if this was the way his thoughts were heading with exhaustion in the driver's seat. And he should really stop looking up words after Casey flounced from a room—that was for sure.

The rest stop was creepy, one of those old small town ones with a diner attached to the side—every up and coming Stephen King's wet dream. When Derek walked in people knew he didn't belong and they zeroed in on his every move. He was only interested in coffee not armed robbery and why were these people in a dinner at eleven at night in the first place? One of the unexplained mysterious of horror movies, he supposed.

Derek walked up to the counter that ran three quarters of the way across the space with musty looking stools situated in front. All the regulars—okay, a trucker and his wife were in one of the booths off to the side. What? He's a director; over-exaggeration was part of the gig.

"What can I get you, Sweetie?"

The waitress was wearing a pink and blue apron with white frills running along its edge—god that was ugly. Her dirty blonde hair was tossed carelessly into a bun with a few stands escaping and falling around her tired hazel eyes. Derek was comforted that she at least wasn't the infamous psychopath the audience wasn't supposed to see coming in a cheesy 'Friday the 13th' remake.

"Two coffees, both black but one with cream and…a hot chocolate to go."

The woman smiled, her teeth being just crooked enough that it was obvious she was paying the price for neglecting her retainer as a child. She was preparing his order and Derek almost sighed at the smell of fresh coffee wafting to his nose.

"Hey, what city am I in exactly?" he asked, too tired to think about how stupid it must have made him look.

But the woman just turned around, flashing him the same flawed smile that was still as genuine as the last time. Derek found himself liking it here—multiple tacky 'Big Mouth Billy Basses' on the wall or not.

"Perry Sound, Honey. What brings you out here?"

"Road trip with my friends," he explained and when her gaze flickered to the video camera in his hand, he had brought with him unconsciously, Derek found himself elaborating. "I'm filming for a demo reel to put in my portfolio before my interview with my university."

The woman nodded and turned around to pour his coffee into paper cups and snap the lid on the hot chocolate. Derek pulled out some cash to pay her but she shook her head, face shining like Mrs. Congeniality, while she slid his drinks towards him across the counter.

"Don't worry about it, Sugar. It's on me. I'll be able to tell my friends I met the next big director in Hollywood when your movie first comes out."

His smile was small but the woman took it anyways as she watched him slip his camera back into his bag. He could see she wanted to ask and he was tired, or maybe just plain fed up with jumping through hoops for a story that he had no idea if he'd get because he answered instead of ignoring her.

"I'm on the road trip because I have no idea what I'm going to do," he confessed with a small shrug and he realized his comment could be misconstrued until he wondered if he wanted it to be.

She smiled and gestured to the cardboard cups on the counter with her hand. "It's not often I buy anyone around this place a cup of coffee, it's unheard of I buy three so don't let them go to waste, Sweetie."

Derek opened his mouth to offer to pay again but decided against it. Instead, he pulled out his digital camera from the front pocket of his bag with another small but larger smile than the last.

"Think I could take a picture to remember the place? I'm kinda searching for a setting still."

The woman's face just about glowed before she was screeching for some guy named Jim who came out through the swinging door off to the side near the trucker's booth.

"What, Jillian? You couldn't have possibly tripped and broke something already. I already crazy glued the glasses to the shelves!"

The man was extremely tall—even at 5'11 Derek was looking up. He had the build of a body builder and when he wrapped his arm around the waitress' waist his bicep just about blocked out her whole midsection. His hair was short and the anchor he had etched into his forearm proudly displayed his devotion to the Navy. Derek swallowed.

"No, Jimmy. I need you to take a picture of me and this nice young man."

She looked towards him in silent inquiry of his name and Derek was very quick to fill in the blanks. "Derek, uh, nice to meet you."

Jim grasped his hand and Derek tried not to wince. But then something amazing happened—this tank of a man's eyes softened to milk chocolate and he looked like a puddle on the floor the moment the woman started to pout.

"Fine, Jilly. One picture."

And they took the picture in front of one of the many Billy Basses standing at attention against old world paneling. She was smiling so brightly and she wrapped her arm around Derek's shoulders while muscle man just looked happy because she was.

Derek realized for the first time in his life he was witnessing true love. There were no substitutes or additives, no fine print or conditions—just god to honest pure love between two of the most unlikely people. It was…different.

"Do you want a picture of both of us, Dear?"

This woman was being so nice for no reason—she seemed to read his thoughts before he did. It was a little unnerving but something in him didn't seem to care. Besides, he wasn't about to say no with Macho Man towering over him.

"If you don't mind."

And the burley man sulked and whined but let this woman who was a hundred pounds soaking wet, drag him into the proper position. After the picture Jim disappeared and Derek went to grab his drinks not sure what to say. But then, she surprised him again.

"Your story is out there somewhere, Derek. Just remember, don't discard a book based on its cover because sometimes the most peculiar ones are the best reads. Have fun on your trip."

And Derek walked out, probably more confused than he'd ever been in his life. It was like she knew how unsure he had been feeling since this whole college business started. He applied because it was the next logical step. Casey's quack had been doubling as career advisor and his dad made him an appointment, leaving no argument Derek was to attend with Nora being there for the tag when his dad started to sweat. And truthfully, he wanted to go—which was why he was making so much of an effort—but he'd have to start all over and he'd done that too many times to underestimate how hard it was going to be. The most difficult thing about it was, nobody could ever know because they all expected something great now that he was a step away from a higher education.

He looked down at the tiny display on his digital camera, realizing she was right. Stories came in all shapes, sizes and hideous colours—even burley Navy Seals and overly nice waitresses. But, he had mad avoidance skills and he was planning on forgetting his last burst of meaningful thoughts, even if it meant considering…love.

His father hadn't ever been the best role model for love unless being an example of everything Derek didn't want to be—hey, he was open to…it, he just didn't want to clear out a drawer. George married his mom out of high school as was expected of him, and Nora was just as lonely as his father was. Maybe Derek was being naïve expecting love to be just a bit more than convenience but these pictures were proof that his father settled for something less than he could have gotten, even if Nora was a pretty cool woman. They just didn't act like that—in that kinda love. Sure his dad conceded to Nora's every whim but it wasn't just to make her happy, it was to avoid confrontation—his father's move since the first Valentine's Day some chick reeled him into shore and called him her Big Kahuna.

Sam was leaning back against the driver's seat with his eyes closed. Derek jumped into the car and shut the side door, startling his best friend from his light slumber. Sam accepted the coffee and immediately took a sip with a bright smile. He shifted so he could comfortably look back at Derek who was slowly sipping his coffee as well.

"This place is so creepy," he murmured and Derek laughed.

Sam smiled and both were startled when Casey turned over and looked at them with sleepy eyes. She started to rub them and take in her surroundings while she stretched with an audible groan.

"Where are we?" she questioned looking back and forth between him and Sam for an answer.

"Parry Sound," Derek answered, shoving the hot chocolate into Casey's hands. "We should probably stop for the night before Sam steers us into a ditch."

Casey was looking skeptically at the hot chocolate while Sam silently concurred with his idea by searching for the nearest motel on his iPhone.

"You don't like coffee or tea that isn't fruit punch like the rest of the world so…"

He waved a hand dismissively in her cup's direction before moving to shut his laptop down and pack it away with the rest of his equipment. Derek's smirk was barely visible when he watched Casey take a tentative sip out of the corner of his eye.

"There's a place four miles down this road," Sam voiced, already in the process of starting the van while Casey smiled at the taste of the warm chocolaty treat in her hand.

The ride was silent but he didn't care very much, Derek was too tired for small talk anyways. And when the bright red motel sign came into view and the vacancy light was on he was ready to hug the person behind the desk the minute he saw them. Of course, when he actually took in the sight of the overweight, greasy haired guy who had a trail of Doritos crumbs from his moustache to the front of his sweatshirt, Derek retracted his silent offer very quickly. He was happy for a place to sleep though, so he tried not to stare openly at the man's ill hygiene.

But, now there was a problem. Vacant only meant three rooms and sleeping arrangements were kind of a delicate situation. Amanda wanted to be near Ralph and definitely not near Casey so she stole a key with an iron maiden grip and flounced off towards her room with Ralph trailing behind. Sam offered Casey her own room, before Derek could argue otherwise but she was convinced there was some 'Vacancy' type killer on the loose ready to strike. And, of course she couldn't share a room with Sam because of their 'history' so yeah—Derek was stuck with her.

To make matters worse, the writers that just loved to torture him turned this whole scene into the cliché he was dumb enough not to see coming. There was one bed that vibrated if you put quarters in it—which he totally did when Casey went to have a shower—and the one channel on the television was in a foreign language that Casey apparently understood. So, he decided to cut his losses and go to sleep. He was just slipping into a dream of a water bed and his very own Harajuku Girls feeding him grapes when—

"Derek?"

It was her. She was shaking him and the girls were waving goodbye to him with sad faces. Damn Casey—kill joy of all that was enjoyable.

"Go away, Spacey," he grumbled but of course she didn't listen.

Instead, she shifted closer to him and latched onto his arm—the limb she already injured with her claws.

"Derek? I know you're awake."

And she continued to shake him, sometimes alternating with his name for kicks and he'd quickly reached his tolerance point. Swiftly, he snatched the hand she had grabbing his arm and flipped over putting his weight on her arms that had carelessly landed above her head in the turn.

"What, Casey? What could you possibly want?"

She looked at him with those naive blue eyes that only made him angrier. How was it possible she didn't notice how uncomfortable this position was? He was on top of her, pinning her down and all she was doing was alternating between blinking and biting her lip, still looking so unsure of herself until—

"I…um…just wanted to say thanks for staying here with me and—"

"I'm the best, already knew that. Now, leave me alone."

And he let go of her arms and rolled back over so he was facing in the opposite direction of her pristine white tank top and matching short pajama set. Of course she'd packed the travel iron Nora bought her last year—the 'Handy Stitch' was probably lying around somewhere too.

God, she was such a weird girl.


	6. Six

**I was convinced to post this earlier, so here it is. Hope you enjoy!**

**Six**

The biggest Nickel in the world was pretty boring and a nightmare to shoot. That thing repelled sun with a success Derek had never had with Casey—he was in Sudbury looking at a giant beaver coin for a reason. It was just her dream come true and she had been reading out of some damn travel guide the minute he got out of the shower this morning. And somehow, his road trip had turned into a democracy that rusted his iron fist into an immobile piece of junk without his knowledge.

His movie didn't need a giant piece of metal in it anyways. He was more interested in lots and lots of caffeine. Sleeping beside Casey had been a torture he never wanted to endure again. She was a freak of nature, he decided—drooling, mumbling in her sleep, trying to clutch onto him like he was her slimy boyfriend. The bruises he found on his legs this morning in the shower obviously meant she had kicked him too during the small amount of sleep he was able to get.

There was a small snack truck off to the side in the parking lot advertising coffee for a dollar fifty on a hastily scribbled sign near its window. He was sure they were selling hot water and passing it off as coffee to those too desperate to find a Tim Hortons so Derek settled for pop, lots and lots of Coca Cola. He had just set his four purchased cans down on a picnic table off to the side of the truck and under one of the only trees that survived during the paving of the parking lot, when somebody sat down across from him. He didn't look up but his uninvited visitor started to talk anyways.

"You think I could use the laptop I saw you with? My father confiscated mine because I was using it for sinful acts."

He looked up at her when the sarcastic comment reached his ears. If she wasn't a poster child for 'Goth for attention' he didn't know who was. The dark hair, the intentionally pale skin, blood red lipstick—the dark fish net stockings and ripped long sleeved shirt covering her slim upper body were a bit much. It made her interesting, though.

"Sinful how?"

The girl proceeded to scratch off some of the dark nail polish on her nails in such a nonchalant way that he was impressed. She clicked her tongue and shrugged her shoulders before they made eye contact.

"I was emailing my boyfriend. We ruined my chances at a white wedding and my parents are just in pieces about it," she quipped sarcastically.

Derek choked on his coke, merely turning in time to avoid spraying the girl in front of him with the carbonated beverage. He was not expecting that but quickly pushed his computer over as he continued to cough.

The next few minutes were spent in the company of clicking keys and Derek wheezing to breathe. Finally Goth Girl was finished corresponding with her evildoer and she pushed the computer back towards him with a slanted smile.

"So, you've not the man-whore I thought you were, when I sat down, or I wouldn't have nearly missed a soda shower."

Lucky for him, he had swallowed his mouthful before she had uttered that phrase. Where had this girl come from anyways? She materialized like Sheldon Schlepper when the powers that controlled his life needed a character for laughs and to keep the plot rolling. What was worse was that everyone knew a Schlepper—the kid that couldn't just take the hint he wasn't wanted—but Derek begrudgingly ended up liking him. It was kinda what was happening now—these freaky types just seemed to latch onto him with little pause for what he wanted.

"I'm not sure it matters if I am or not, since clearly neither of us is interested."

He was calmed down by now, no lasting damage to his windpipes that had been assaulted by a river of fizzy liquid moments before. But, she was looking at him curiously and he found himself kind of hesitant to stick around for what she had to say.

"Maybe you're right about that…so you're a director of some sort. I saw you filming earlier and the editing software on your computer sort took the mystery out of it. Gonna try to amaze me with your vision?" When he didn't answer, she found the need to elaborate from somewhere on his face. "I'm from California, people like that grow on palm trees out there. My parents thought a thrilling visit to my grandmother's, who is lucky enough to live ten minutes away from the largest nickel in the world, would help me find myself."

He found the description amusing, mostly because it had been the same sarcastic one he had given earlier. But this talk about his vision, he supposed he couldn't really fake amnesia now and maybe it would help to talk it out. After all, a short conversation with Nora helped him immensely before and he'd never see this girl again.

"I'm on a road trip to find one. So far I just have a lot of shots but nothing to bind them together."

Goth Girl looked contemplative for a moment and Derek wondered if she'd have the same earth shattering advice Nora usually did. Of course, he knew he couldn't expect that from a total stranger but he was hoping she did. It was a desert canyon for ideas lately and he was out of options.

"Hm, you're in a little bit of a pickle, aren't you?" the girl laughed and she really just said that. "But isn't that why all the ideas nowadays are modified versions of other peoples?"

And then she was bouncing up away from the table when a red faced man stalked towards them. He was wearing black pleated polyester pants in July and his matching polo shirt was buttoned up to the top button. Derek now understood why Billy Idol was such a big deal in that family.

"Hey, I typed my email in your address book. Let me know how everything goes…and now, I got to go."

Derek took out his digital camera and snapped a shot of the girl running away with an amused smile on her face. It almost looked out of place in the gloom she caked on with makeup and clothes. He didn't even know her name and he watch her dad drag her towards a four-door sedan still running in the parking lot. She was arguing the whole way.

darkdespair…yeah that email address was original. The name Amelia beside it made him reconsider deleting it.

He looked up at Ralph and The Leech running by in a surprisingly PG game of tag. Sam was standing beside Casey looking ready for mass murder while she obliviously continued to rattle off whatever it said on the large plaque in front of the infamous giant coin. Derek was definitely not getting in on that.

Instead, he pulled out his camera and positioned it on the table so it was facing the tree. Bending over, he quickly made sure the shot was the way he wanted it before pressing record and moving to sit against the trunk.

"So this is Day Three and I'm still hitting my head against a wall. The only thing worthwhile about this whole trip so far has been drawing a Hitler mustache on Casey with her eyeliner last night. And…this is stupid."

Shaking his head, he got up and switched the camera off in the midst of stifling a yawn. Everything was back in his bag by the time he was sipping his pop again. He wondered how many he could buy with the giant nickel he was wasting his whole day hanging around.

It had to be at least a thousand.


	7. Seven

**Seven**

It had been Casey's turn to drive and evidently they were lost now. Sam was supposed to be the navigator but apparently 'Bejeweled' via cell phone was more important. So now, they were on the side of the road in the dark trying to figure out where they were with a flashlight and a map. The one positive was the 'Casey Freakout' he was getting live and in colour as she squawked and tried to fly for help out the window of the van.

And then the greatest thing happened—The Leech spoke. The whiplash Casey must have suffered from turning her neck at breakneck speeds didn't seem to faze her. She was glaring at the blonde girl with enough venom that Derek felt goose bumps prickle his skin and a cool breeze envelop his body from just being in the crosshairs.

"Excuse me?"

It was that Casey tone, the one she used when she was trying to be the bigger person and control her anger—it never lasted very long if you knew what you were doing.

"I was just commenting on how incompetent you have to be to get us lost with a map."

He could have sworn he heard the sound of a bell in the distance as he discreetly as possible shifted the camera back to Casey to catch her reaction. And by god, it was a good one—her crystal eyes were smoldering like the quiet just before an explosion.

"Well, I'm sorry. Maybe if you weren't so busy sucking Ralph's face off and volunteered to drive instead, you could have done better."

He flipped the camera back towards the blonde and boy did Casey's shot connect. Amanda's brown eyes were black depths boiling over with rage that dripped down her face and contorted everything it touched into something sinister. Even Ralph looked scared and was trying to inch away slowly to a safer distance by pasting himself to the opposite side of the van.

"Well, I would've if perfect Casey didn't think she was a gift from god that shouldn't be questioned."

And Derek already knew the barb hit before he witnessed the slight drop of Casey's left shoulder. It wasn't really fair and he knew that. He didn't like to see Casey hurt, even if it was only a small dent in the elaborate armor she wore constantly. She was a part of his life, whether he liked it or not, and usually a happy Casey made for a happy home so it was in his best interest to be optimistic about the whole thing—nobody liked a pessimist anyways. But, she had to be tired by now with all the burdens she carried on top of her line of defense against the world. He even barred arms sometimes but Casey never did—not really.

"Somebody has to be responsible because with you in charge we'd end up being hookers on street corners."

He was too surprised by the comment—or more the fact that Casey said it—to catch Amanda's reaction. But, he didn't really need too; her rebuttal just about demolished everything in its path.

"I'm kind of confused because it's me who has a boyfriend, while you on the other hand got dumped by yours for kissing your ex."

Amanda said it with such sarcasm that he would have been impressed if his camera hadn't fell from his hands and landed upside down in his lap. It was so silent that he couldn't even comprehend what he had heard. Instead, Derek just looked at Casey—much like everyone else was doing—waiting for something that he doubted any of them understood.

Finally, the door slammed and he blinked once to make sure it was really Casey stumbling down the road in front of the van. Everybody's eyes were on him, like they were expecting him to do something, though Amanda just seemed interested in gloating her victory. Beating Casey was no easy feat, but with ammunition like that—well, she really didn't have all that much to be proud of.

Sam started moving but Derek was already out of the van by the time the passenger side door flung open. Ten seconds later, he was running after her with an abandon he'd only ever felt on the ice. His neck was sticky with sweat under damp hair that just brushed over his eyes and his bag lightly collided with his back if he moved in a certain way. Like hell, he was leaving his most prized possessions behind with the horny couple two feet away from a sex tape.

He was finally close enough to grab Casey's arm, coming to a stop just in time to avoid a very embarrassing collision. She jumped, flinging her arms in the air like she hadn't expected anyone to go after her. Well, that was kind of stupid.

Derek could feel her eyes on him but it was too dark to really see what Casey he was dealing with—not that it mattered considering this situation was going to be about as excruciating as Chinese Water Torture no matter what. He didn't do feelings and there was something else inside that was screaming at him to turn the other way because of another thing entirely—where was his script when he actually needed one?

Casey started to walk again and he blindly followed without much thought. They were side-by-side and going in the same direction for really the first time in their lives—it was nice in an eye of the storm kind of way. Corn swayed in the breeze around them and wasn't this the start of some two-bit horror movie he'd watched with Edwin way back when?

"So…" he tried, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans with the little nonchalance he could muster. "This was the reason you wanted to come?"

It was a statement but he left the ending up in the air for Casey's benefit. It didn't seem like a good time to make assumptions because he really couldn't have her darting into the cornfield in some crazy kamikaze attempt to escape. It would only effectively serve to get her lost and leave more work for him when he had to find her. Casey didn't say anything, just stiffened slightly at the words, not that he really minded.

Wow, was it dark; he couldn't even see two feet in front of him. The howl of the wind and the annoying sound flip-flops made when they hit skin surrounded him in some confused melody. Casey really needed to rethink her shoes before running away from her problems—it wasn't exactly rocket science but then she never really did think ahead to the consequences when she was in flight from the big bad bitch called reality.

Did she really think that horning in on his road trip would fix the mess just waiting to pounce on her back home? That was just so full of illusion and yet so Casey that he found himself laughing, bordering on a very unmanly giggle.

"Did you just come after me to laugh? Because, just turn around and leave if you did. Actually, just leave anyways."

Derek stopped laughing a beat too late because Casey was now stomping angrily away from him yelling something scathing that was too jumbled by her distance to bother unscrambling.

"Casey, come on," he yelled, begrudgingly running after her. She was such a drama queen sometimes.

He grabbed her wrist and she stubbornly ripped it from his grasp. Why was he doing this again? Oh, right, he had no idea. But, he was already invested—sorta—and he wasn't about to admit defeat to somebody like Casey.

"Can you just stop a second?" he shouted before starting to run after her again.

She wasn't stopping and he was getting tired of running. This was his vacation, and batteries were not included for Casey's shit. She always had to make things difficult with just the right amount of flounce and a dash of crazy. This chase me because you care shtick got old after Sam and he stopped in his tracks refusing to participate any longer.

"I don't see what the big deal is. Things happen, deal with it," he yelled into the night.

It took one Mississippi and she was stomping back towards him in that out of control way that only ever happened when she was angry. Casey was something else when she was angry.

"Deal with it? Deal with it?"

She was pushing his shoulder at every word with enough force that he had no doubt that he missed the mushroom somewhere in the bright green tunnels with scary flowers that popped up at the most inconvenient times—Edwin had a 'Super Mario' phase and no friends in the first grade. But, Casey was talking again before he could really dig any deeper than that.

"I let Max kiss me, I cheated on my boyfriend…and…and you're telling me to forget about it?"

There was something he was missing, there had to be. He was usually good at figuring out the word before she could hang him but this was too easy. He didn't even need his dictionary for this one and no game with Casey was without some scholarly element.

She was a foot away from him and she seemed so desperate for something he knew he didn't have. He quickly surveyed his choices, threw caution into the wind and—

"Do you want to forget about it?"

Okay, so it wasn't as risky as he made it seem, he was buying time—asking for a hint and she was giving it to him. She was fiddling with the edge of the thinly strapped violet shirt he had been surprised about when she pulled it out of her bag this morning and her eyes shifted downward casting her long wavy hair around her like a veil.

His eyes followed passed her short white denim shorts that just seemed to glow in the dark, down her legs that seemed to go on forever and to her feet that were partially covered by the gravel that made up the side of the road since about a mile back.

What was she trying to tell him?

And then her arms moved, snapping his attention towards them, now wrapped around her slim waist and gripping it tightly—for warmth maybe? But that didn't make sense; she wouldn't do that, not in front of him. It was a blatant sign of weakness and she was smart enough to know that he wasn't above exploiting the tiniest crack to his advantage. Derek rewound the tape, watched the playback and all the hints he missed before jumped out at him, scaring him half to death like a really good ghost story.

I let Max kiss me; I cheated on my boyfriend…

Casey McDonald didn't do that kind of stuff, he did that kind of stuff and she tired to talk him out of it because it was morally wrong—according to her. And if she really was saying what he thought she was, then—

"Yes, Casey. I want you to forget about it."

She was looking up at him in surprise—her big blue eyes so full of hope and tears—and he knew no matter how hard it was going to be, he had to utter the last sentence. Because 'same difference' would say them and he had to begrudgingly accept his title sometime. She was expecting, needed it from him and... 'Same difference' thy name is Derek Venturi—for now.

"If you felt the need to do something like that, he wasn't right for you and he definitely wasn't good enough. It doesn't matter anymore, you're still you, Casey."

And she latched herself onto him before he even realized what happened. She had his arms pinned to his sides and her face was buried into his shoulder while she clutched the cotton of his shirt like a lifeline in rogue waters. Great, a feel good family moment—this was awkward.

If only the film had been rolling because he just put in one hell of a performance.


	8. Eight

**A/N: For those of you that have asked (and for those who haven't) the next chapter of Unmasked is coming. I could get into the circumstances as to why it is sitting un-updated but that would probably be longer than the chapter, so I promise it will be updated - at the very latest by the time this fic is finished (which is in...eight more chapters, for those who are wondering.) **

**Thanks for the feedback and enjoy the chapter!**

**Eight**

They were at a bar in a town called Chapleau waiting for Sam to find his way there to pick them up. Casey didn't want to go back to the van so he had reluctantly walked the three more miles to semi-civilization with her in silence. It was very much a small town, though there was a train they had to wait the ten minutes for before crossing the tracks.

Unfortunately, it was dark and the artificial light his camera came equipped with would ruin any shot. He was doomed to a night off in a bar with more dead animals on the wall than was kosher. Obscure knickknacks and beer merchandise made up the rest of the decorations leaving just about everything else to be made of wood. From the bar to the tables and chairs haphazardly thrown about—once upon a time they used to be a rain forest and Lizzie would be so disappointed. The only semi-interesting thing was the mini stage and karaoke set up in the corner. Based on the signage displayed on their way in, it was Karaoke Tuesday.

Derek was sipping a beer because after the last scene he felt like he deserved one to try to forget the whole thing ever happened. Casey was on her second Ginger ale and maybe her stomach was as upset as his. He got fed up pretty fast with the silence so he uncharacteristically gave her a genuine conversation starter.

"So, how's the trip?"

Her eyes snapped up and he rolled his own when she almost knocked her drink into her lap. She really needed to pop her top once in a while—he smiled finding the phrase extremely funny—and more cliché alternatives started flowing in.

"Good, I guess," she answered slowly and he shook his head.

"Wow, that tells me a whole lot."

He didn't know when he started to care that Casey had a great time. He only asked her to go in the first place because she was acting all squirrely and he was somewhat worried about True-boyfriend taking advantage of that while he was gone.

That probably sounded weird, or completely untrue, but he was always the one looking after Casey. Their parents were just so caught up in their younger siblings lives because maybe they believed the shit Casey spewed forth about being capable of anything, that they let her fall through the cracks. And this latest cry for help went unresolved once again and he couldn't deny any longer that this time wasn't really any different than the last.

He had meant it when he said he wanted her to learn from her mistakes—but really it had been a way to absolve his responsibility. Casey was always an area of his life that bestowed no reward for playing the game and maybe this time he actually wanted to win. He had cheated before, warning her how her True-relationship was going to turn out and even after all the progress their quasi-friendship had made—she had ignored him. That bothered him, that she had—

"Derek? Are you even listening to me?"

She cleared the haze of his thoughts with impeccable timing. What he was quickly approaching before was a realization that had something inside him coiled so tight a pain radiated from his chest as he breathed. Anything that felt that bad couldn't be good—not even a little bit.

He just stupidly shook his head and she rolled her eyes before repeating herself. "I said, Sam told me that the final stop on your road trip is Vancouver. I always wanted to go but I was wondering why you wanted to go. Are you going to see Sally?"

She was leaning towards him in that ridiculous way again but he supposed after the scene a couple hours ago, he had given her hope of something substantial on the heart-to-heart scale. And hey, he could oblige because this was too new of a game and Casey's rules of engagement were still figments of her control issues.

"I emailed to tell her about my trip and she told me she wanted to show me her campus."

An odd look past over Casey's features and whatever it was she was thinking made her lean back against her chair with a small frown marring her face. Derek was interested but he wasn't about to ask—that look was a beast he'd be crazy to consider battling with his wooden sword and rusty armor.

"Are you sure that's wise?" she asked in that controlled anger he was so familiar with.

Sally was still a really great friend he tried his best to keep, even over long distance. Sure, she was kind of whiny and an eight on the high maintenance scale, but for once in his life, he found somebody that was easy to talk to—once he actually got over himself and did it. She listened and with their couples contract shredded, she understood without ulterior motives.

And why wouldn't Casey find it 'wise' to continue that friendship? It wasn't like she didn't like Sally, Casey actually liked her a whole lot, which had always bothered him in some unexplainable way. Casey was always progressive towards their coupling—when he screwed up she was always there with butterfly bandages to keep them together. But Sally was his ex and they were friends now, so that didn't matter. She was seeing some guy she met in her psychology class and he was as happy as he could be for another human being.

Derek glanced at Casey and she had that superior air about her that only materialized when he was doing something she didn't agree with. And as he took in her crossed arms and narrowed eyes, he realized she thought he was planning on getting back together with Sally.

Normally he would have a field day with this, but he was too tired for even a half-hearted attempt. Between chasing Casey, and sucking back caffeine just to stay awake for the past twelve hours, the beer was the icing on a cake of exhaustion.

"Sally and I are better being friends. We're not each other's type."

He said it so wearily he hoped she'd give it a rest but Casey never knew when to stop digging until she tripped and tumbled into China. And letting things go didn't exactly translate well with her inner slobbering beast frothing at the mouth for a taste of his heart.

"Sally wasn't your type, Derek? You were so in love with her you wanted to drop out of school and travel cross country to be with her. How's that not your type?"

So much for restraint before China, she was well on her way to Lo Mein before he finished the last half of his beer. The puncture marks just above his jugular were a testament to her bad aim because he was neither sad nor scared enough for his heart to be anywhere near there. Battle wounds, it was all they ever turned out to be.

"Can we play Analyze Derek later, Spacey?" he tried again with so much exasperation in his voice even Casey couldn't miss it—or so he thought.

"Okay, then what is your type, Derek? Do tell."

And she was being so smug, like she knew she caught him in a lie—which she hadn't—that he just had to take the wind from her sails. As some drunken guy in houndstooth and stubble finished butchering 'Crimson and Clover,' Derek drank the last half of his beer for the energy to act.

"My type, dear, Casey, you should know that by now. But keeping with our current surroundings…" he trailed off reaching out to grab her hand and turning it so it was palm up across the table.

The blue ink of his felt tip pen tattooed her porcelain skin as he scribbled a name of a song across her palm to the veins of her wrist. When he was finished, he let go, smirking somewhat as she yanked her hand away and tried to resist reading what he wrote.

Then Sam walked in, and Derek was slapping down enough money for his beer and her numerous Ginger ales by the time his best friend made it to their table. Casey looked up at Sam, apparently surprised by his presence and being the nice guy that Sam was, he smiled warmly in return to her blank stare.

"We found a motel. Amanda and Ralph are already there. Come on," Sam smiled in his patented sensitive way that Derek didn't remotely find annoying.

Somewhere between leaving the bar and arriving at the motel, Derek drifted off. He had woken up to Casey slamming the passenger side door and was too tired to complain when he realized Sam only got three rooms again. He supposed another room wouldn't have mattered anyways since Casey was convinced every motel was a serial killer convention. He collapsed onto the bed and was asleep in seconds—he didn't even bother to check to see if Casey was abducted during her trek from the car. Sometimes, he really wished she were.

He was woken a while later by a soft sound from the bathroom. Looking around the dark room, and finding it conveniently absent of Casey, he knew whatever the sound was she was making it. Rolling ungracefully out of the bed with a sigh, he stumbled shirtless, tired and rumpled towards the light just peaking out from under the door. His jeans were hanging low on his hips, and he reached up to run a hand through his bed headed hair before throwing the door open without much thought of the consequences that could be waiting behind it. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust but the sight before him was not one he had expected.

"Jesus, Case," he mumbled softly, shuffling soundlessly towards the form crumpled on the toilet.

Without asking, he sat down in front of her and drew Casey's cut up feet into his lap for inspection. The wounds didn't seem deep but they were still bleeding like hell—the small ones always overcompensated for what they lacked in size.

"What the hell happened?" he questioned absently, already running his fingers softly over the bleeding gashes.

"I…we were walking and I didn't have proper shoes and the gravel…I'm fine."

She was rambling and she only ever lost her verbosity when she knew she had no leg to stand on—but did she really have to get all keener-y and take that literally? He looked up at her giving her his best incredulous look before setting her feet down softly on the floor.

As he stood, he shook his head. "Sometimes, I just don't get you, Casey McDonald. Stay here, I'm going to get the first aid kit in the van."

She was so stupid sometimes—wanting to walk a full ten miles when for half of them rocks were slicing her feet to shreds. Injuring herself proved nothing but idiocy, no matter what reason of hers she was delusional enough to believe. She was so smart and yet she did stupid things like this all the time. But, he couldn't accept that contradiction now, not when she was hurting herself because of it.

She was staring at her feet that hadn't moved from where he left them, when he got back. Tiny drops of blood started to pool below them on the cracked white tile but he could deal with that later. Grabbing some towels from the rack near the door, Derek wet the smaller one under the tap. He was sitting in front of her, like he had been before, seconds later and was surprised to feel her jump when he brought her feet back onto his lap. Hopefully, she was thinking about how stupid she was being.

Casey's feet were resting on the dry towel and Derek softly started to whip away the dry blood from the gashes with the wet one. As he was wiping, he glanced up towards her face—eyes closed while biting her lip—and shook his head.

"Want to tell me why you went all night without telling me about this?"

Derek's voice was soft, anything else seemed wrong somehow. He didn't want to think about why—because in some ways he already knew. Her eyes snapped open and his eyebrows rose in a silent look of inquiry waiting for her answer. Derek watched her try to come up with a lie then her debate about telling the truth until she decided to shrug half-heartedly. Always had to make things difficult.

Her feet were clean and the warm water stopped any more blood from seeping out of the cuts for the moment. The next step would be to disinfect but he needed to make sure there was nothing inside the wounds first. He tried his best to make it painless but made sure to watch her face for any sign his fingers glided over something that didn't belong—by gash three on her second foot he unfortunately hit pay dirt.

"Ow," she whimpered slightly, her eyes squeezing shut in a way that warmed the part of him that he pretended not to have.

He looked down and winced slightly at the tiny amber piece of glass lodged inside Casey's foot. Derek shook his head; he didn't think she could get anymore insane. This no doubt had to do with her feeling guilty about what happened, but did Truman really deserve it? The guy had cheated on her with her cousin for god sakes and she was walking on broken glass for him. That was just ridiculous.

But he needed to focus on getting the glass out, not her stupidity. He ripped the tweezer package open and doused them in alcohol for good measure before looking up at Casey who was looking down at him with fearful eyes. There wasn't a part of him that felt sorry for her though, not when she did this to herself in some quest of absolution.

"You have glass stuck in your foot. I need to get it out."

She nodded slightly and looked so scared that his heart did this weird clenching thing—but that didn't count. Great entertainment was hard to find now a days and his heart was ignored unless it had something morally right he could laugh at. And yet, for some reason, he wanted to say something to take that look off her face. Her eyes were so wide, her face was so white and she was biting her lip hard enough to draw blood— and he was waiting for somebody to yell out his line from behind the camera. Words just tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them and he was sure he screwed up the scene the moment he heard the genuine tone to his voice.

"You know the song I wrote down for you, it's a great song. It really does describe the perfect woman," he said wistfully because if there was such thing as the perfect woman, Derek sure hadn't found her yet.

But, Casey was listening and her face was rapidly gaining back some colour so he kept babbling while trying to figure out what the best way would be to remove the glass with minimal damage.

"I first heard it at the mall in the CD store with a girl I met there. I remembered she didn't like it so I left her in the country section," he laughed with a slight smirk.

"_Der-ek_, that's horrible!" Casey exclaimed in amusement.

She was shaking her head and it was nice that she was laughing with him, not at him for once. Because he'd deny it up and down, left and right but having somebody constantly by his side beating him at the things that really mattered the most was frustrating. The small part of him that didn't believe he was good enough before meeting Casey was now a giant radioactive crater somewhere inside of him. But, she didn't do it on purpose and despite hating her for a short time at the beginning of their co-habitation, he knew he couldn't fault her for being stellar.

"Yeah, well, it only made her like me more. Apparently, I was some sort of bad boy that just didn't care…" he trailed off and gripped the glass with the tweezers before quickly pulling it out.

"Ah, ow!" Casey yelped, involuntarily jerking her foot further onto his lap.

Derek swallowed thickly at the new position which was increasingly becoming entirely too close for comfort as he felt something all to familiar stir inside of him—he moved her foot back to his knee as inconspicuously as possible. Casey didn't seem to notice the compromising position or the flush rising up his neck and he was extremely grateful to avoid that awkward conversation. Her obliviousness never ceased to amaze him and the message from his body about needing 'release' was crystal clear.

Taking a breath, he geared up for disinfecting the cuts, knowing that this would probably hurt more than the glass. Silently, he grabbed a cotton ball and looked up at her with what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

"I need to disinfect them now. It's gonna sting so suck it up, no crying allowed."

She nodded and her scared face returned, but not as bad which was somewhat reassuring. He supposed he could keep talking, but what else did he really have to say. His previous story was pretty much dead and she wasn't very forthcoming with her own. He started wetting a cotton ball while subsequently talking about anything that came to mind.

"I used to do this for Marti all the time after my mom left. My father isn't exactly Mr. Mom and his amount of first aid knowledge is the box of band-aids in the medicine cabinet. Of course, Marti never walked on glass but she did get splinters all the time from my father's see-saw that Edwin and I finally took a hammer to a couple months before you moved in. If my dad asks, it was a freak tornado."

He started with the alcohol and she only noticeably winced, which he took as a good sign. Casey was a better patient than Marti. His little sister would do anything to get out of his grasp when it came time for the alcohol swab. He had tried everything short of tying her down until he ended up singing to her in a last ditch attempt. For some reason Marti was still the only audience his voice had ever seen and he wasn't foolish enough to believe she enjoyed it for anything more than the reminder of when his mother used to sing her to sleep.

"I don't do it much anymore because, well, Nora is there for that stuff."

Casey was looking at him with this look he'd never seen before. It was almost tentative, slowly crawling to the surface of the sapphire and fire that made up her eyes. He didn't understand what she was trying to tell him again and he was angry—why couldn't she just stick to the goddamn script? It wasn't even supposed to be him in this scene, but she had ruined that when she went off and macked on the quarterback.

Stupid Casey—stupid, stupid Casey.

"All done," he murmured, realizing way too late that her feet were resting bandaged in his lap. "I'm going to the vending machine."

And he walked out. He didn't look back, didn't care actually. This road trip was about him and for once in her life Casey was going to accept that. Her stupid melodrama wasn't his problem—not any longer.


	9. Nine

**I was convinced (railroaded) into posting this earlier than I wanted, mostly because I'm lazy and it takes a lot of effort to get chapters ready for posting. But, the special person in my life does wonders to keep me focused by sick twisted schemes of talking excessively about just how great it will be to watch two seasons of Gossip Girl to fill up my spare time. God, I shudder just thinking about it.**

**Enjoy the chapter, this one is one of my favourites. Oh, and something in this story finally almost earns the 'T' rating at the end :)  
**

**Nine**

He had been paying for dinner when their waitress slipped him her number on the back of a flyer for a party. Derek had laid it on pretty thick so his invite from _'Jenny 867-5309'_ wasn't very surprising. It was when he realized he might actually want to go that he was a little flabbergasted. But, Derek wasn't really one for reflecting and his 'date' for the night was smokin' hot which could only mean he'd be introduced to her smokin' hot girl friends at the party—now it was a lot more clear why he wanted to go.

So he told Sam that their original plan to make it to Winnipeg by tomorrow was off—Thunder Bay was more than half way anyways. Casey's shrill voice objected but he was hell bent on ignoring her until she figured out they weren't following her script any longer. She could scream all she liked; it wouldn't change anything. But, when Sam agreed to stay with Casey, he was suspicious. His best friend was trying for nonchalant and he was failing miserably—it was easy to see what was going to go down. The only question was, did Casey.

And as Derek glanced her way, he realized that somehow she missed the blatant signs that had to be bruising her face with all their continuous slapping. Even somebody as self-centred as Amanda was looking at Sam suspiciously and yet, Casey just continued complaining about the party.

But, he wasn't about to warn her again—not after last time—so he stood up and walked over to the waitress who had been openly staring at him since he left the cash register. The conversation was short; it consisted of him asking for a flyer for his friends and a flirty promise to see her soon. It was like second nature to him now—he could do it with his eyes closed and it kind of sucked the fun out of it when you couldn't see. But, it was one of the few things he was great at and you did what you were great at because nowadays good didn't cut it.

He caught Casey's eye briefly as he walked back to the table, brightly coloured invitations in hand. He wondered what it was like to be great at everything. Of course he knew she worked hard for the majority of what she had achieved, she never let go. It's not worth doing if it's not done right—yeah, that was way too much work and bullshit, if he wanted to be totally truthful.

Demanding so much perfect of yourself, only left a greater fall—but Casey didn't know that. Because as Derek thought about it, he realized she never reached that crash landing that her father hadn't warned her about before brainwashing her into being the best. He was always there, not her father, to push her into letting go before rock bottom was in view. But, Derek hadn't done that this time and maybe that was the reason she was pushing this party thing so hard—she was waiting for him to push back.

It was an odd thought because he never thought their relationship was based on need from her side—but then he never really let her ask for the big things. She put up so much of a fight during the sneaking out, the food fights, the arguments, the pranks that it hadn't occurred to him that she was in it for more than just the chance to beat him. He always did things to get a rise out of her and she'd retaliate but maybe, she did things too—he just didn't know to strike back. So, he decided to test his theory out, nothing would change or maybe a whole lot—so really he had nothing to lose, not that it really mattered either way.

"Spacey, I tried to get you an invitation but you know how it is, you just reek of loser."

Derek watched her huff and puff while her back snapped ramrod straight, gearing up for a war. But, he was ready because they were following his rules now, not hers. 'Same difference' wasn't the same and it was about time he showed her that.

"Well, I'm sure if you bathed like a normal person the overwhelming scent of filth wouldn't radiate from you and kill wildlife."

The fire overwhelmed the blue and her eyes swirled to almost hazel—he'd never noticed that before. All those times they had fought, and he'd missed this—how? Her hands were gripping the side of the table, her knuckles white like she was restraining herself to only leaning forward in a dare for him to act. Derek briefly wondered how far he'd have to go to get her to jump over the table—unfortunately, he didn't have the money to pay the restaurant for damages and he didn't really want her in his lap.

"Oh, Space Case, I know your last couple boyfriends bordered the line of straight but smelling like fruit and flowers isn't what real men smell like. I'll forgive you for being so confused. Helping educate you in your time of need is all the thanks I need."

He used the tone that always got her hot and now was no exception. Oh she was mad, she was shaking and sneering, her face was completely red—even Amanda looked a little worried and Ralph shifted away. Sam looked the same; as usual passion was just a tropical fruit to his dear best friend.

"My boyfriends were manly, Derek. I can attest to that."

And she smirked in this way that was entirely too familiar for him. She was lying of course, but it didn't change the fact she had gone there. Casey didn't do that; he did that and watched her squirm uncomfortably in embarrassment. He was intrigued and a little impressed—except she'd never been interesting like this before.

"Well, in that case it's a good idea for you to stay away from the party because once you pop you just can't stop. And we wouldn't want little Casey to wake up tomorrow morning sore and trapped under coyote ugly, now would we?"

He was good at being patronizing but so was she. The only difference was when he did it; she usually tried like hell to prove him wrong—only serving to make him more annoyed and angry since he just didn't care all that much to make the effort to change her mind. Casey was blushing and like he suspected she was not backing down. But, then she did something totally surprising, she laughed.

Derek watched her while his brain tried to go through a million and one possibilities. And as minutes ticked by, it became increasingly apparent that he was at a loss for the first time during one of their battles. She had completely flipped the script—what control he thought he had seemed completely useless in the face of this latest development.

"If you want me to go to the party, all you have to do is ask, Der," she teased and smirked in that way that made the coiled part of him twist.

And it took him a minute, maybe two to find his balance on the edge of the mountaintop their battles always took place on for drama's sake, but when he did, she could tell. He could see it in her eyes, the way they widened just slightly, and Derek wondered what tipped her off. It was easy to see she was going through the same motions he had previously, gearing up for an attack and looking for a way to counter. So he did something he knew Casey wouldn't expect, he looked into her eyes and—

"You're right, Casey. I should just ask. Do you want to go to the party?"

He made sure to say it so softly that it sounded genuine—though that part of him deep down that didn't get a say, knew it was. But, at the moment this was all about winning. He was competitive but he also wanted proof that he was right—Casey needed him and she was going to admit it.

The whole table was silent with wonder. Even Ralph figured out that what just went on wasn't normal in a Derek and Casey blowout. Not surprisingly, Sam picked this point to look bothered by making fists under the table. Derek would have rolled his eyes if he cared at all because truthfully any guy, who went after a girl as emotionally fucked up as Casey, should get used to a little burning love—even his best friend who should know better by now.

"What?" she finally coughed out.

Casey took the safe way out, he wasn't surprised but a little disappointed. Her eyes were wide in that big blue naïve way that annoyed him so much but what was worse was that they proved that she actually wanted to come. This new Casey, who ever she was, figured out it was more effective to refrain from biting the hand that was feeding you—something the old Casey was still trying to master the last time they spoke. Fucking Truman, he really messed her up and Derek was quickly realizing that Casey either tumbled in way too deep by accident or she had expected him to step in. This might be partially his fault.

"I asked you if you're going to the party because I know by now you can't resist doing stupid things. So, I wanted to warn my date before hurricane Casey arrived to fall down stairs and trip into unsuspecting victims on her way through the crowd."

The battle was over, his last comment was half-hearted and for some reason he didn't seem satisfied. He had got what he wanted—he had even won—but for some reason he felt so unfulfilled. He couldn't explain it and he definitely wasn't going to think about it, so he got up to leave. He needed to make sure his camera was charged—girls loved the whole director bit.

Lucky for him, he packed a semi-nice looking shirt for the road. It was a standard white button up shirt that went well with anything—his mother watched a lot of 'What Not to Wear' when she was on leave pregnant with Marti and took to the family as her own fashion disasters that needed to be aided. And despite having ample opportunity to go against 'the golden rules' he still hadn't—maybe he just liked looking good.

This was only supposed to be a pit stop, so it took a while to find his bag underneath all of Amanda's junk in the back. He had just slipped his replacement shirt on when somebody tripped over the curb behind him—subtle Casey. She cleared her throat in that annoying way she did when she wanted attention and she kept doing it, each time getting louder or closer—he wasn't sure. Finally the inevitable came.

"_Der-ek_! Stop ignoring me!"

So, he turned around with a still unbuttoned shirt and looked at her questionably. She was staring at him and for somebody that was so hell bent on getting his attention before, she was doing a horrible job at keeping it. Sighing, he buttoned up his shirt and slammed the back door.

He made it to the side door before she decided to speak. "Well, did you get an invitation for me or not?"

A quick glance revealed her crossed arms and defensive stance—he really didn't understand where she perceived an attack from. Maybe the homeless guy panhandling on the corner looked at her the wrong way—Casey was that crazy. He threw his bag over his shoulder and turned to face her with a shake of his head.

"Couldn't get you an invitation, you reek of loser…ring any bells?"

She looked offended by the comment, stepping back like she had taken a physical blow. He didn't understand that, this was what they did—one act of kindness wouldn't change that, it never had. But, by the hurt look that she was failing miserably at concealing in her eyes, she had expected a regime of change and when had she ever needed his permission to do anything, anyways? Another rewrite—freakin' spectacular.

"Whatever, Case. Come if you want. The invitation is so you have directions. It's a damn house party."

He slammed the door of the van and walked back inside for his date. God was Casey frustrating—she lived to make his life difficult. She'd come to the party and he'd have to look after her, he always did even when she had boyfriends. She'd drink the spiked punch, get harassed by a guy or catch her boyfriend cheating on her with her cousin—he was always the cleaning crew. But this time Sam could do it; he was the one that wanted her.

Jenny was ready to go the moment the door slammed shut behind him. She dragged him out of the diner throwing suspicious glances at Casey as they went—and who wouldn't? Casey was the master of warranting the wrong kind of attention with her chemical imbalanced personality.

His date drove a candy apple Corvette that glittered in the sunlight and like a lady hated to talk about its age. It made it all that more apparent that Jenny was a rich girl slumming it at two-bit diners and house parties in Thunder Bay—a girl with daddy issues, could he get anymore lucky? And by the way she was looking at him, the answer was yes—over and over again.

He was great at small talk. Dinners with his mother could attest to that. They had nothing in common besides their shared familiar link and it was understandable that any topic regarding his father wasn't on her list of favourites. And he realized early on that small talk wasn't about the weather, it was feigning interest in the other person. So he was asking Jenny all about herself and she was confirming his assumption with everything that she didn't say. Because she wasn't working for tips at a diner to save up for college with the kinda trust fund that paid for this car and her slinky outfit at her disposal. The fact that she was lying was enough to keep him interested, and hey, he kind of knew how she felt.

"So what about you, Derek? Why are you in Thunder Bay?"

She glanced briefly at him but she was driving so they didn't share the meaningful eye contact he was sure both of them weren't interested in. Because they both knew this was going nowhere—this was just one night and while he usually had enough respect for women that he'd stick it out for a couple dates until the end game—this particular girl was making it crystal clear that she wasn't interested in that. So he'd play the part because this sure was a step up from 'same difference' the reoccurring guest star in his own life story.

"On a road trip. I'm a director, looking for a muse," he said loftily in just the right way for this particular girl.

Their eyes connected momentarily during a lull in traffic and she seemed to figure out that they were on the same page in the battered 'Rules of Attraction' handbook. Her red hair—so straight and smooth—flung over her shoulder when she turned back to the road and he was going to love messing it up.

"A muse, huh? Well, have you found it yet?"

Smirking at the exact moment they came to a stop, he looked her over slowly. Her green eyes were sparkling with anticipation under the moonlight and she bit her lip in this way that she knew would make him burn.

"You, know, maybe I have."

She smiled and her eyes were so dark that he was sure they stole his breath. And she leaned in slowly towards him, stopping just before their lips touched so her breath made him tingle. He knew this game well but god, did he want to kiss her—it wasn't everyday that he found a girl as good if not better at this than he was. It wasn't his turn yet though, so he waited for her next move, having no argument that he'd enjoy it.

"We definitely don't need the party then," she whispered and her voice was so raspy it was doing amazing things to his insides.

He leaned closer so their lips were just barely touching and smirked at the hitch in her breath when he grasped her hand that was resting on the thigh closest to him. Slowly, he dragged their joined hands down the soft skin on display thanks to her incredibly short skirt, until they reached her knee. Their erratic breathing filled the car as he lifted their hands up to the keys still hanging out of the ignition before together they forcibly turned them so the engine came to life.

"I have to meet my friends at the diner in the morning. I hope you'll buy me breakfast."

Derek pulled away and her hand fell to her knee. He leaned back in his seat and watched her try to collect her bearings enough to drive. Looks like he won, not that it was that much of a surprise.

He loved winning and this game was all about giving a person just enough of everything they ever wanted until they were hooked. It was like being popular because the admired were the ones that appeared to have what everybody else dreamed of. And reading people, it was what he did best.


	10. Ten

**This chapter is all about moving in the right direction...or at least it seems like it is. But, since I am technically the puppet master in this whole thing and making it easy has never really been my thing -- you never know what direction is the right one until the very end.**

**Enjoy :)**

**Ten**

His phone had been on silent all last night so he had missed numerous calls. He wasn't sure whether to be amused or annoyed by Casey's angry messages. She wasn't his keeper, and didn't seem to get the memo when he called Sam instead of her to let him know of his plans. It wasn't his fault that Sammy didn't tell her and she ruined another night of fun with her personality. He was helpful in pointing out that fact though, and now the van was filled with a big game of swapping hate.

Sam was mad at Casey, Casey was mad at the world and he just pretended to be angry so nobody would talk to him. Everybody was mad at everybody and this story's power couple was too busy playing Travel Checkers in the back to really care enough to pick sides.

The quiet was making plenty of time for editing, since the camaraderie for exploring tourist traps was left broken and bleeding on some patch of asphalt in Thunder Bay. They had been driving for ten hours and were well passed Winnipeg. It didn't matter to him, Casey had been the one that wanted to stop and see some zoo—cause they didn't have perfectly good ones back in Ontario and this one was home to the red wombat or something equally as ridiculous. But, she was too busy simmering in crossed arms and pouty lips to notice that such an educational opportunity literally passed her by hours ago. Besides, she'd just make them stop on the way back anyways.

So far his movie was still standing and waving at him mockingly from a street corner at a distance he could just make out but never get to. He had a lot of material that was good on its own, but together it was missing something important. With his night with Jenny banished to the deleted scenes—it had been nice of her to volunteer to help with his movie—he just had a whole lot of Casey, if he wasn't counting Ralph's thrilling monologue about what type of sandwich he'd bring to a desert island. To summarize, he was as inspired as he had been back in London—maybe he just needed new material.

Every great movie had a love story, which is why every horrible movie did as well. Unfortunately for him, he was really limited for actors. There was the unrequited love in the front or the sex addicts in the back—and really, maybe he should just flip a coin. But, so what if Amanda and Ralph had about as much love between them as a membership to an adult video store—that was what editing was for.

His camera was trained on his new subjects as they were hunched over the tiny board in heated competition. He couldn't help but notice how happy his friend looked, goofy grin and all. So maybe they were one of the less seedier establishments without the creepy token greasy haired cashier and he wondered how Ralph could have ever had a crisis of sorts over Casey if Amanda made him feel like this. And though he found it incredibly stupid that the blonde turned into Miley Cyrus near a Jonas when Casey was around, he kinda understood—Amanda looked really happy too.

"What are you doing?"

His eyes snapped up to blue and Amanda was looking at him curiously. Ralph turned to look at them in his usual confused state while Derek was trying to decide the best answer. Going with the truth seemed like the best option but that went against everything he believed in. Of course, going with his gut instinct never let him down before, it was all those times that he let that organ that shall not be named control things that everything went nutty—stupid Casey and her convincing acts of coercion.

"Filming you for my movie," he answered nonchalantly.

Surprisingly, the girl just shrugged the answer off—not what he was expecting. She turned to Ralph with a bright smile before turning back towards him with an extra twinkle in her eyes.

"Fine. But, I get fifty percent of any of the proceeds."

She focused back on the game and Derek was now understanding just why her and Ralph were so compatible. But, he didn't need to tell her she was getting fifty percent of zero—it wasn't his fault she didn't consult her manager. He was filming and she started to lean just a little bit closer to the camera so her shirt slipped down and—okay. His soon-to-be teacher was already bordering heart attack valley that was also way-way over the hill, he didn't need to arrive via tumbling at breakneck speeds.

Plan B—only Casey and Sam were about as compelling as his father reminiscing about leather pants and his high school garage band. Just watching the two was a big yawn fest and editing could only do so much. Casey had her bare feet on the dash and a book in her lap that was about as thick as a two by four was wide while Sam continued to sneak glances at her from the driver's seat. And really, why would Casey be interested in a guy who let her get away before and had been secretly pining over her ever since? Sammy never did understand the concept of needing to start in the front seat in order to move into the back for some fun.

Derek was surprised he had missed it all this time because even in the tiny display screen of his camera it was abundantly clear. But, from what he had witnessed—from Sam's mooning, Noel's stalking, Max's continuous phone calls for another chance and Truman on their porch in a tux before prom—Casey was a tough girl to get over. It boggled his mind as to how she had managed to break these self respecting men down—Noel withstanding—until they were actively volunteering to live up to the giant ten page long list of expectations next to 'boyfriend' in her Casey-to-English Dictionary. But, he had no doubts as to why.

Effort had always been a sign of a true 'Ivanhoe' in her delusional mind. Casey played warm and cool—since she was too nice to attempt a real brush off and she wouldn't be ready for 'hot' until she was quivering on the satin sheets of a heart shaped bed in some honeymoon suite in Acapulco. For Casey, the physical aspects to a relationship were the wasted moments of wading through the shallow end of a pool when you could have just jumped into the deeper water right away. Because somewhere between pinning over Harlequin Romance Novel characters and comparing her love life to 'Casablanca,' Casey had decided that she was going to make a meaningful something out of nothing so she could always have a Paris.

And watching her fail so astoundingly over and over again had been entertaining. For some reason hollow feelings worked just as well as selfish sex in sabotaging anything before it started but that was just the problem. Because no matter what you told yourself, self-destructive behaviour was still destroying something even if it wasn't outwardly noticeable. And when you wake up in the dark one night in a cold sweat all alone with just a bloody nose and a broken veneer—you take Truman back because there is nothing left but pieces.

It took him a while—but in Derek's defense 'Clue' wasn't exactly his favourite board game. And with all the secret passageways and extra wrenches, he should get a goddamn medal. The sad thing was that she put up all those walls waiting for her prince charming to come knock them down and he was the one with the sledgehammer and a toolbox standing outside her tower.

He wasn't patient and he definitely wasn't kind. His balance was questionable at great heights so he hoped she had a ladder of some sort and his decision to follow her pretty much effectively put his emotional meter to the opposite side of fine. But, he was the one that chased after her so she better be goddamn grateful.

Things were going to change between them when he busted into her castle like gangbusters ready to be there for her in her 'emotional' time of need. They wouldn't be able to go back to pretending to hate each other because she'd know he was lying and he'd have seen her at her most vulnerable.

Derek didn't know what that meant for him—or Casey—but he had to do it. She was waiting for somebody and he was the only one that knew of the casting call. But that was way in the future because he was a method actor and he needed to get in character. Besides they had just arrived in Regina and it would be rude to not welcome the experience like the sign suggested.

And Casey would be fine, well, as fine as a Casey could ever be.

He could worry about it later.


	11. Eleven

**Eleven**

The bright lights and excitement around Derek were infectious. The angry scowls of the van were frowns turned upside down, and was there really any other reaction when you were standing inside a casino?

It had been his idea and he'd be accepting gratitude in all forms of currency for the rest of the night. So far Sam gave him an amicable head nod and Casey wasn't talking to him, but he wasn't begging so he had every opportunity for choosing. And Casey would be forking over a lot more than that before time was up.

This simmering mixed up ball of hostility she had been fond of playing since Thunder Bay was getting tiresome. She could hate Sam all she liked but she had no bases for including him. Casey had always rolled her eyes at his numerous conquests before Jenny and really he was the one being chased in the whole situation—the rich, hot and oh-so limber redhead had come after him. And Casey had to understand that when a girl like that threw themselves at you, you sure as hell better catch them. But even if she didn't, he had called—it wasn't his fault his message went undelivered.

"We're hittin' the tables. Laters," Amanda exclaimed dramatically before dragging a willing Ralph with her by the hand until the crowd of people around them swallowed them up.

Derek had forgotten they were there, since Amanda had been uncharacteristically less annoying for the last couple of hours. She was apparently a self-proclaimed card shark, according to Ralph who had told him this while his girlfriend was in deep meditation on the way there to prepare for her upcoming battle against the house. She had the attitude for it, so if anything else she acted the part—having the skills on the other hand was still questionable.

So that left the three of them standing awkwardly off to the side of the casino floor. He wanted to be anywhere but there, as it was obvious that the two of them brought nothing but a whole whack of bad juju. Sam was the best friend he'd ever had, but sometimes Derek could only take him in small doses—and Casey was self-explanatory. He didn't bother to say anything, just walked away.

Derek had never been to a casino before but it didn't mean he wasn't familiar with the concept. His mother had never really been there for him but she had taught him how to play cards. She spent half of his life trying to keep a marriage together that had already fallen apart and he'd learned to accept that a few good memories were better than none. And right now, they were going to serve in making him a lot of money.

He sat down at a table—to his left was Mr. Serious with his sunglasses and vodka tonic while Ralph Kramden in a suit and a domestic beer was to his right—this was going to be easy. Derek had fifty bucks and with a little luck it would turn into a whole lot more.

"Chips, please," he voiced and made sure to smile at the dealer when she slid his chips over.

She was a petite brunette who had been dealing Black Jack for way too long judging by the tired look in her golden eyes. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail making her tanned skin and high cheekbones much more pronounced. The gold plate clipped to her red vest revealed her name to be Annette and she smiled back before asking for bets.

The first rule of any card game was that anything worth it required a lot of sacrifice until the perfect opportunity presented itself. So he chatted up the table, waiting for that moment. Mr. Serious was apparently some online Black Jack champion, hence his disguise to conceal his self-proclaimed celebrity. Ralph Kramden in a suit was vacationing with his wife for their fortieth wedding anniversary and he was waiting for her to get all dolled up for a show in the casino's amphitheatre. Annette really didn't say much, but her pit boss was kind of a tight ass so it was understandable.

Surprisingly, he was having a good time with his eccentric company and right when he thought that maybe this night wouldn't be a total bust—Casey arrived. She had a glass in her hand but she wasn't stumbling more than usual so it was probably something non-alcoholic. That was unexpected, since she was actively seeking him out when just a few hours ago she was ready to dump plague on his house—her words not his and really it was kind of a stupid plan considering they shared an address.

Casey sat down in the empty chair between him and Mr. Serious before turning to look at him like he was wearing a yellow hat. She started to stir the dark liquid and ice around in her glass with a tiny black straw she had been using to drink from before smiling brightly.

"What'cha doing?"

She was being totally serious and the sensation of standing up too fast really shouldn't happen when you're sitting. Derek watched her take sips of her drink through that damn straw that was drawing more than just his attention—Mr. Serious was apparently a straw enthusiast as well.

"I'm…playing Black Jack," he said slowly, motioning with his hand to the table.

Casey turned to survey her surroundings while her empty hand unconsciously moved to rest against the green felt of the table.

"Bets?" the dealer sighed.

Annette looked marginally annoyed and Derek went all in. Any luck he might have had was being sucked away at a rapid pace by the harbinger of eternal doom beside him because Casey was literally the cooler of his life. He had to act fast.

Between the winning and losing of the last couple hours, Derek was up a hundred bucks, meaning he was betting that on top of what he started out with. It was a little sooner than he would have liked but his perfect opportunity was right now whether he liked it or not.

"Are you sure, Derek? That's a lot of money, isn't it?"

Casey was looking at him with this stupid glassy expression. Her eyes got a little bit wider and their striking blue was watered down with apprehension. She started biting her lip slightly and Mr. Serious fumbled the stupid chip flip he'd been doing all night.

"It's fine, Casey," he sighed and with her next foreseeable line of protesting already forming on the tip of her tongue Derek interrupted that too. "Trust me, okay?"

And surprisingly that shut her up. She went back to sipping her drink and watching as the game progressed. His cards weren't as shocking to him as they were to Casey, but she was so happy for him that he didn't want to ruin it until—

"Derek, how did you know? It's like you knew what cards were coming! I thought for sure you would lose but Black Jack…that's good right? I mean, it isn't a bad thing like it is in Old Maid, is it? I—"

"Come on, Casey. I think you need to get to bed. We have a long day tomorrow," he said quickly before grabbing his chips and yanking her with him by the arm.

She was protesting the whole way but Derek made sure to keep a tight grip on her arm until they were out of sight from the table. The moment he loosened his hold, she yanked her arm away from him and casted an angry glare his way.

"What the hell is wrong with you? I was just trying to be nice," she hissed while dramatically rubbing her wrist in an attempt to conjure up some sympathy, maybe?

He didn't think she was that stupid. Derek was never sympathetic—and no, him agreeing to be her shoulder to cry on didn't count. She had left him no choice with that one and it hadn't actually happened yet so it wasn't worth anything. They still hated each other and the sun still set in the west—everything was right in the world.

"Whatever, Spacey. Lets just move on."

He had to try because the fact that his mother also taught him how to count cards wouldn't really go over well with Straight-laced McDonald. She'd cause a scene with all of her self-righteous bullshit and he'd have to defuse it before people actually figured out that the garbage coming out of her mouth pertained to him. So, while counting cards wasn't exactly illegal and he hadn't really won all that much, the casino was still losing money. And he generally liked his kneecaps enough to spare them the pain of a baseball bat.

"No way. I deserve an answer after you went all caveman on me and abused my rights as a self respecting—"

"I was counting cards, alright," he murmured, leaning in close enough so nobody could hear him and involuntarily letting her perfume invade his senses.

Peaches, really? He had always thought she was more of a vanilla kind of girl, considering the grade grubbing—is sixty-nine really your credit rating—personality she offered constantly. It really made him wonder sometimes where Casey started and McDonald ended in her massive inventory of wigs and mustache glasses.

"Counting…isn't that cheating?"

She whispered it so softly that it unconsciously shifted his attention to her eyes. Their colour ripped words from his depths and mashed them up until his thoughts were waxing poetic phrases about oceans and the midnight sky. He couldn't really say they were right, but they weren't wrong either so where exactly did that rate on a scale of one to ten? A six was pushing it but a five wasn't enough—so maybe a five point three. That seemed fair enough.

"No, it's not," he sighed before breaking their eye contact.

Casey didn't say anything else, and he was grateful. Derek didn't think he could handle anymore from her tonight. She always had this ability to sweep the leg of any situation and as he said before: his kneecaps were a personal precious commodity. He supposed he should be grateful that it was an instinctive quality that Casey wasn't even aware she had because if the day ever came when she wasn't so oblivious, well, he'd be screwed, big time.

They were standing awkwardly in a mess of slot machines and the cries of people paying the price for a cheap thrill, trying desperately to figure out how to get away from each other. Derek still wasn't sure why she was talking to him but he was sure the unease of the situation was all his doing. Because, despite his claim that everything was a-okay, it really wasn't. Things might have not changed for her, but they had for him.

He had openly admitted he cared for her and now he understood exactly why he had been feigning amnesia since showing up unannounced with his dad's tools and a big hammer. Derek didn't do this—the I'll be there for you with an umbrella thing—not for girls, and maybe it was supposed to happen in that cliché—queue the wind machine and the girl crawling enticingly towards him in the midst of cartwheels—way, but it didn't.

It was just a delayed reaction to something that should have been completely apparent the moment he announced the first soccer sister in front of Edwin's tiny stereo. She was nervously hugging herself, her eyes still casting around desperately for a reason to leave him behind—and he loved her.

This was the story he was destined to find—figures it would be the most fucked up cover in the entire world.


	12. Twelve

**Thanks for all the wonderful feedback. I'm just glad people are still enjoying this story. Enjoy!**

**Twelve**

Casey was back to not talking to him. Derek couldn't imagine what had changed for her in the time it had took him to make excuses to flee her presence last night and the collective decision to drive to Edmonton a couple hours later. But, there they were sitting side-by-side in the back since Ralph volunteered to drive and Amanda was attached to his hip. Sam was snoring loudly from the middle seat after he dove for it like a Yankee fan would a Jeter homerun the moment he spotted Casey sitting quietly in the back.

And really, how was that supposed to impress her? They were practically two peas in a Casey pod and Derek wasn't the one dreaming of another chance. Hell, he wasn't even sure he was interested in one chance and he suspected that being new to this loving Casey thing wasn't a factor at all.

Of course, there could be long term effects he wasn't aware of yet, considering his best friend had to be blind not to see that the girl next to him wasn't ready for another relationship. But, after Derek had run away from Casey, he had collided into Sam trolling for jewelry in the casino gift shop. His best friend's purchase of a necklace with a familiar consonant doubling as a charm had to be proof of something dangerous—maybe Casey was like asbestos to the male population.

Derek supposed he should be angry that Sam was buying tacky jewelry for the girl he wasn't sure he wanted but liked to keep the option open until he decided definitively. There was a real male code about that—well, if his best friend knew they were technically into the same girl, which he didn't—but if Sam ever got the guts to give the necklace to her, it would be a big step for him so Derek wished him the best of luck.

Casey had her eyes closed but she was moving her shoulder in this way that made him think she wasn't sleeping because of some kind of pain in her back. He had lived with her long enough to know, it happened often. Derek wasn't sure if it was a side–effect from dancing or the more likely option of just being her, but Lizzie was apparently very proficient at giving back massages. The McDonald sisters always had this weird bond he didn't totally get but he supposed that it was an example of the supportiveness Casey was always preaching to him about. And hey, he could give massages—she just hadn't asked.

"Here, let me try," he whispered because even though Sam's snoring sounded like a mack-truck in a tunnel, Derek wasn't all that comfortable enough with this love thing yet to share it with Double Trouble in the front seat.

Casey tensed the moment his hands touched her shoulders, but he gently massaged them until she gradually relaxed. She had turned so her back was to him and her head fell forward—her skin was so hot through the thin cotton of her tank top.

He tried to focus on finding the knots in her back but the whole ordeal felt like he was playing Minesweeper on advanced. Because dear god, when he got to the base of her spine and pushed slightly with his thumb she made this whimpering noise that sent off a chain reaction of explosions until his hair was electorally charged.

Yeah, this game was definitely over.

He pulled his hands away from the tantalizing heat her body was giving off just to fuck with him and positioned them strategically in his lap. Casey turned to look at him questionably and she really shouldn't do that because he didn't want it to end either. Her face broke out into smiles before he could think about it further.

"Thank you. I think I must've slept wrong or something."

He was nodding, though he was pretty sure he had no idea what she said. Because, hearing was one thing, processing on the other hand—so he might be rethinking his whole position regarding Casey. And holy hell, thoughts like that weren't helping his current predicament when they weren't ever going to happen. Casey wanted Paris and he wasn't ready for the Eiffel Tower—there was still a whole wide world to be oystered and he was sure that wasn't how that saying was supposed to go.

"Are you okay, Derek?"

She was looking at him with the same worried eyes she had when he was about to bet it all during Black Jack and he supposed his hand being stuck in the proverbial cookie jar wouldn't go unnoticed. It took a moment but slowly with enough torque his hand came free with a loud pop.

"I'm fine."

She looked skeptical but nodded anyways before turning around to try to find a semi-comfortable spot. Her back was too him but it didn't stop Derek from noticing the way her hair tumbled down her back in waves of golden brown. He imagined it would be as soft as her skin had been—velvety, smooth and smelling completely delicious—and what would a relationship really be like? It was a new thing for both of them because sex wouldn't be a means to an anything, least of all an end and he wouldn't settle for the pod person she decided was his dream girl. Because if he was going to do this, he'd have to figure out if Casey McDonald was the girl worth fighting for like Batman did Vicki Vale, though Bruce Wayne had those nifty Batarangs and a disturbing infatuation with bats…

So maybe, he wasn't going to battle the fire-breathing dragon until he was sure that the reward was really something he wanted…and Batarangs were still vital to the operation too, just because they're awesome.

"Casey," he said softly and her arm twitched in recognition of her name. "Come on, I know you're awake."

She turned to look at him with an indignant look in her eyes and a scrunched nose—he smirked in response before launching into his horribly crafted paragraph to sell his master plan to her just like he usually did when he was sugar-coating bullshit.

"Since we're living together in the fall, I think we need a fresh start to make the adjustment easier on both of us."

She looked curious, if not a bit little scared because usually any statement of goodwill from him was crafted to lull her into a false sense of security before he struck. But, he planned ahead—well as much as one could during the first and last words of his previous sentence.

"Now, I know that might sound strange coming from me, but I really think that we already have enough to worry about with university and moving away from our friends and family. So I propose a day of fun, planned by yours truly, of course, and by the end of the day we can let bygones be bygones."

Surprisingly, this was the one time Casey managed to keep her face a stoic mask. Every other time her emotions were either leaking from her eyes or spewing from her lips and somehow she was sweeping the leg in a situation he created. He was beginning to think that acknowledging his love for Casey was going to be more excruciating than The Jonas Brothers hitting the big screen.

"Okay," she said slowly, so cautiously that he knew for sure his assessment was very true.

Welcome to lines, vines and trying times, Derek.

Casey turned back over and he turned to stare out the window. It was one thing to ask her but did that really mean he was ready for the answer? Derek wasn't sure he knew but then a general state of confusion was common when dealing with Casey McDonald. He had asked her so somewhere inside of him something must have been ready, besides there was no way out now anyways. She'd been let down by enough guys—almost every single one she knew—and he really didn't want to be on that list, especially since he didn't know if she could take another blow without fake and indifference to take the fall.

She was breathing evenly, so he leaned forward slightly to ask Ralph to stop. Amanda had been whining about being hungry so Derek had no need to explain himself. It was early in the morning and they were a handful of miles outside of Edmonton according to a road sign. So while Ralanda ate at a diner, Derek found a payphone at the gas station across the street.

Sam was still snoring away and Derek had laid Casey out on the backseat before leaving so he had all the time he needed to plan their outing. It wasn't really a date, not when one part of the participating couple was under the impression it was all about brother and sister bonding. But, he didn't really care about that since the point of the whole thing was to spend time with her without the labels and restrictions of back home. So even if she was thinking one way, he was thinking in the other direction enough for both of them.

The phonebook wasn't really helpful since he really didn't know what he was looking for but he absently looked through it anyways. He and Casey's relationship never included the conventional things siblings did with one another. They didn't go to the movies or hang out at some cheesy diner with friends, sporting events were out too unless you counted his hockey games Casey was forced into seeing with the family. Their time consisted of bickering over whatever was convenient, ruining each other's days in the halls of school and crashing each other's evenings out just to mix it up. As a matter of fact, the only place they actually went together had ended horribly when he left her there for a hot blonde gymnast who was visiting her cousin and leaving for New York in the morning—and he needed an operator.

Her voice sounded somewhat robotic, like it was a prerequisite to the whole operator thing, and really were men even allowed? At any rate, she had been very helpful. He knew exactly where he was going to take Casey and he was determined to make it a better experience than last time—though he was sure anything would be an improvement from before.

Amanda and Ralph were flirting over eggs and bacon so Derek ordered pancakes. He ordered some for their sleeping friends too since other people were always far from the couple's mind for completely different reasons. One half was selfish, the other was forgetful and when you mix it all together you got let them eat cake with a question mark at the end. Boy, Casey's scholarly mumble jumble sure did a number on him after all these years.

They were on the road about half an hour after that and Derek was only mildly worried that Amanda was behind the wheel. If this was the way he was supposed to go, he'd die bravely. Casey and Sam were awake eating while Derek went over his notes the operator had given him to make sure he didn't miss anything. He had never really planned anything for any other girl, even Sally and Kendra just got the dinner and a movie treatment. But, he was actively planning something meaningful, and maybe that was his answer regarding French landmarks. But, he didn't want to think about that, at least not until he had too.

When they arrived in Edmonton, Casey and Amanda's relationship took a step in the right direction when they agreed on getting motel rooms, well at least he thought so until Casey laughed at one of Ralph's jokes and Amanda was putting a do not disturb sign on the door of her room. Surprisingly enough, Sam offered to bunk with Casey and it was kind of humourous to watch the whole thing play out. It was almost like a scene out of 'Sixteen Candles'—Casey was Molly Ringwald and Sam was the loveable dork who wanted her underwear—and Derek was quickly realizing that Sam really had a shot because Casey was the type to feel obligated instead of letting him down easy. Like hell, he was letting that happen in his movie—he was Jake Ryan, goddamnit and he totally wasn't getting into his closeted admiration for John Hughes.

"Don't worry about it, Sam. It will be easier since we're doing the whole bonding thing today and Spacey here is good company when she's not awake."

He smirked slightly and Casey huffed in annoyance at the polite insult. But, really with all the kicking, drooling and sleep talking she did, it was like she was awake anyways.

"Really, Sam, I'm fine with, Derek. I've survived worse."

She shot a glare his way and he was surprised to see the playful tint to her eyes. Maybe massages really were the way to Casey's heart—he was already making a mental note to take a class or something in the fall just incase.

"Bonding thing?"

Sam was looking at them suspiciously and actually looked ticked off by this latest development—really the character growth his friend had undergone in a few short minutes was astounding and for some reason Derek's competitive nature was coming out to play. Did he want Casey or was it because he hated losing, though if he wanted to win didn't that still mean he wanted Casey anyways? God, he was getting a headache.

"Yeah, Derek didn't tell you? He has a whole day planned out so we can, what did you call it, Der?"

She was intentionally forgetting, making this a test. Yes, she was teasing him, it was quite obvious by her smile and sparkling eyes, but his intentions were on trial as well. And, she should really know better—he wasn't one of her chump boyfriends or god forbid, Noel.

"I believe I said 'we can let bygones be bygones.' I'm appalled you'd forget such an important milestone in our relationship, Case," he exclaimed, nailing mock appalled and clasping the fabric over his heart dramatically.

"You want to let bygones be bygones?" Sam asked and skeptical really wasn't that hard to get, unless you wore a toque in July it seems.

"Yep, me and Spacey are gonna be the bestest of friends," he laughed and reached out to pull Casey towards him until their sides were flush together.

Casey was looking up at him oddly but just ended up shaking her head. He supposed that his complete one-eighty really wasn't making much sense and she probably knew by now that asking was just a waste of time.

"Well after that massacre of the English language," Casey mumbled sarcastically and how did she get away from him so quickly? "I'm going to take a shower. When're we leaving for this bygones be bygones day of fun, Derek?"

"Um…two?"

And really was it too much to ask not to sound as clueless as Sam did when she asked for a decision? He was at war here, well, not really but it was a pretty gruesome knife fight, okay staring contest. Of course, that changed when Casey walked away but Sam looked away first. That so counted.

But hips, they really shouldn't sway like that and what the hell was he saying earlier?


	13. Thirteen

**Thirteen**

Casey was wearing this pink halter-shirt thingy that was beaded along the straps. He didn't really understand a whole lot about women's fashion, but he could appreciate a design with a plunging neckline and open back. Her dark wash jeans, that he suspected were painted on, really weren't playing fair either in his opinion. Casey's favourite forms of torture seemed a lot more vicious than his own, considering he didn't have hips that don't lie and she probably wasn't appreciating his layered shirts and jean combo quite the same way. Derek's day of fun was starting out famously and he was saying that as sincerely as he could manage at a time like this.

He decided to let somebody else navigate to lessen the chances of getting lost by calling a cab. They were going for lunch first and to tell you the truth, Derek wasn't really hungry. He suspected it had a lot to do with the churning in his stomach but he preferred not to think about it at the present time.

Casey was smiling excitedly and pointing out all the landmarks she had read about in one of her damn travel brochures that seemed to multiply faster than he could destroy them. The long-winded and boring account of their history was kind of annoying—the cab driver concurred with glares of death in the rear view mirror. Derek didn't really care though, not when he was distracted by the waviness of her hair resting in a loose ponytail over her shoulder.

He was kind of surprised he was at this point because he had known her for three years and lust never really factored into it. When he had first met Casey, he'd had a 'She's All That' moment because really, who tried to rock bangs like that in the twenty-first century? But, he had liked the attitude she hid so fiercely behind before and after she realized he wasn't Ralph. It was when he was privy to all the other parts that he ran for the hills.

Maybe if he'd stayed this love thing wouldn't have happened next to granny Susan abusing the nickel slots in a sun hat and polka-dotted dress. But, it was too late for woulda-coulda-shoulda since he was already a great big splat on the concrete. Besides, the fact that the whole thing was so unexpected and real made for a better story, no matter how it ended.

They were at the restaurant and Derek paid the driver. Casey would probably be angry that he wasn't investing his winnings for school in the fall, but he was just following his mother's rules. Always spend what you win because apparently his grandfather was some big time gambler who threw away everything he had to the Niagara and Derek was kind of sad he never met him.

He had picked this quaint little Italian Bistro for more than just the awesomeness of the food. Because this was a Casey place, complete with live band singing watered down Andrea Bocelli songs and red candles being held up by their own wax on stained glass plates. As he said, the operator was extremely helpful.

But, they weren't really on a date so they sat on the patio sans candles but close enough for the band. Things were going well considering Casey was blabbing away about how precious the restaurant was in a mind numbing stream of consciousness, but he was kind of immune to it by now. So far, he was having a good time but they were in Italy not Paris—that was an extremely important distinction that he just wanted to make clear.

"How did you find this place, Derek?"

She was tearing apart a breadstick and eating it in this way that had to be illegal. He was sure if she asked, he'd tell her anything—who knew Casey was so efficient at one of the only enhanced interrogation techniques the Bush Administration didn't use. She was really full of surprises, wasn't she?

"Well, generally businesses like to be listed in the phone book, but I could be totally wrong about that one."

Casey rolled her eyes and went back to eating that damn bread. His complimentary water was almost gone and where the hell was their waiter? It was like the out of work, frosted tipped boy band wannabe was one with his plight because he appeared beside them seconds later.

Derek ordered whatever drink he pointed to that made the waiter give him a funny look because he was too busy getting a refill on his water from a bus boy strolling by to notice its name. Casey ordered wine and he was just happy she'd have something else to occupy her time instead of those freakin' breadsticks.

It wasn't until their drinks arrived that he understood exactly why Backstreet had made a big deal out of it earlier. Shirley Temples were pretty good if you haven't tried one; it was just their outlandish fruit covered image that gave them a bad name. Casey was laughing at him when it was quite clear he was as surprised as she was when it reached the table but rule one of being Derek Venturi—rock what you got like a greatest hits album.

"Don't knock it until you've tired it, Spacey," he laughed and took a sip of the sugary concoction to get his point across.

She seemed contemplative and he wondered what she was thinking about until she reached across the table, pulling his hand back with her until the straw of his drink was close enough to her lips for her to drink out of. Derek felt like that cartoon wolf in the old Warner Brother's cartoons, howling with his eyes bugged out and his tongue dangling from his mouth—he was sure that was an accurate description even though outwardly he was a melting ice cube with eyes glued to her lips.

"You're right," she smiled and when had his hands and glass retreated to the table? "It is good."

He cleared his throat the best he could and tried to bring some semi-balance of self-decorum back to the situation. Rule two of being Derek Venturi wasn't really working for him today because he wasn't even cool in the body temperature sense of the word. She was either screwing with him or really didn't know—either option didn't seem very promising for the rest of the night.

With the amount of liquids he had been drinking, it was an inevitable conclusion that he'd end up where he was—in the washroom halfway through lunch. And he supposed it was his fault, he did take her to a restaurant that made a living on noodles that looked so enticing when she put them in her mouth. They were oddly having a good time, well at least he was and he assumed she was just over the moon about making him literally sweat.

When he got back to the table, she was sipping her wine and looking out at the cars passing by on the street. Her head was tilted slightly and the blue colour he had wanted to capture back in his room was just noticeable. He was prepared this time and she had no idea that either he or his digital camera were near. It was a nice shot, Derek was sure she'd like it if he ever showed it to her—not that he was planning on it.

He went to pay the bill before coming back to the table. She looked over and smiled at him before placing her empty glass back on the table.

"So are we off to part two of your day of fun extravaganza?"

Derek put on a thoughtful look before raising an eyebrow and looking at her as curiously as he could manage. "That depends, are you having fun?"

He watched her think about her answer and he had always hated that about her. Casey could never say the first thing that came to mind, a thought had to go through numerous filters before getting the okay for launch. Derek supposed that he only hated it because it wasn't something he'd do, but she was nothing like him so really he'd have zero to complain about if he actually decided to date her.

"Frankly, I'm not having any fun. You're going to have to try harder if you want me to forgive and forget, Der "

Her face had a whisper of a smile and he had the sudden urge to kiss her. It was the first time that had happened, all of his previous thoughts, well they had been a little farther along on the base path. But, he shook it off and grabbed his heart with a broken-hearted gasp.

"Not having…not having any fun! How can you not be having any fun during a day of fun?"

Casey was standing now and she just shrugged in way of answer. He knew she was lying in the face of their usual banter but something inside of him wanted her to admit she was having a good time—with him.

"Fine, part two it is, but just so you know, before this day is over, you'll be admitting to having fun, McDonald!"

She was fully smiling as they made their way outside the restaurant and he spotted the cab he had called after paying for the check. He ushered her in and gave the address to which she softly huffed because she didn't recognize it. Casey always hated surprises and that was just another thing they didn't have in common. She wanted to examine every possible angle of a situation until her life was a finished puzzle glued to a wall but where was the fun in that? The whole point of a surprise was the anticipation of what was to come because while eighty percent of surprises usually fall short, there was still twenty percent that jumped leaps and bounds. And, he, Derek, was in it for that leftover twenty percent.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?"

Derek looked at her with a thoughtful expression to make it seem like he was toying with the possibility of telling her. It was always much more fun when Casey anticipated a win and lost horribly. They weren't that far away from where they were going anyways, so she'd know soon enough. But, until then he was going to enjoy teasing her.

"Um…no. Some mystery is good for the soul, Case, especially for a control freak like you."

She looked appalled at the suggestion and he wasn't sure if it was the good part, the mystery part, the insult part or the he didn't answer her part—it was a toss up really. But, he didn't have to wait long for her to clear up any confusion.

"I don't understand why you can't just tell me. It's not like it's going to make a difference, since I'm just gonna figure it out when we get there. You, know I hate surprises and yet, I should have expected this, since it is, you. Why is it so hard for you…you're taking me to the fair?"

He was too busy watching her rant with flush cheeks and overly dramatic hand gestures to realize they were there. But as he turned around to face his window, the cab was pulling up in a parking space out front of the fenced off empty parking lot. The look on her face was worth it though—her gapping mouth and wide eyes looked exactly like the fresh catch of the day that eluded his father on every single family camping trip. It was hysterical.

"Yep and your face was totally worth it," he exclaimed and was out of the cab before the faithful _'Der-ek'_ could pierce his eardrums.

He was buying tickets for the rides when Casey finally caught up. The girl at the ticket counter was flirting with him so he thought about flirting back until he remember all the effort he put in to making this happen and like hell was he going to do all that for nothing. Besides, doing that to Casey twice was a little inhumane, it kind of made him feel guilty for even thinking about it. Hopefully, that was another one of those side effects he wasn't privy too before he agreed to brainwashing. Derek never had been a fine print kind of guy and he was finally paying for it with his sanity.

"Are you sure this is a good idea? Our last carnival ride didn't turn out so well."

Casey was looking nervous, which was probably why what she said was even remotely funny, and Derek didn't want her ruining the whole night with her own internal countdown until his departure. God, he really was an ass.

"Don't worry, Spacey. A day of fun with Derek Venturi usually has to include yours truly so you're stuck with me until the clock strikes midnight," he laughed as not to attract attention to the fact he meant what he said but just in case that didn't work, "I smell Funnel Cake, lets go."

The carnival redux was surprisingly going well. He laughed at Casey when she refused to go on the Salt and Pepper Shakers and she laughed at him when he tripped over his feet after the Tilt-A-Whirl. It wasn't until they were sharing cotton candy on a picnic bench between an overflowing garbage can and a sad little Charlie Brown pine tree that things got really interesting.

"You know, Truman took me to the fair in town this year."

She said it so quietly he wasn't sure he heard correctly, but if she wanted to talk about it, he wasn't going to employ the selective hearing he usually did when that idiot's name came up in a sentence. But, Casey kept talking and he was realizing he wasn't needed in this conversation after all.

"We had fun. He tried to win me one of those big bears but his aim wasn't the best. I know you never liked him, well, nobody ever liked him but sometimes he was a nice guy."

Derek wasn't sure what she was trying to tell him. It could be any number of things or maybe there wasn't a message at all. But, with Casey there was always an underlying factor—it was just that way. He shoved cotton candy into his mouth wondering if it would turn his tongue blue.

"And, I know I shouldn't have got involved with him but he chased after me. Nobody had ever done that before and I know he cheated on me but I still didn't want to hurt him. I just…I felt like I couldn't break up with him again because I took him back."

Hello, blue tongued Derek sitting right here, out of breath in embarrassing eighties work out gear. He probably should have said that out loud because really, what did he have to do for a little appreciation? But, the scene couldn't go that way—she wasn't ready for it and he didn't know if he was either. So he asked her something else instead.

"And Max, how did that happen?"

Casey was quiet and maybe he shouldn't have asked. But, Derek kind of wanted to know and it was good for character development, she might even be normal-er if things kept going his way. Besides, she was leading up to it in a roundabout way so hello, he was just helping.

"I…um…we went to a party in Toronto. I told Mom I was over at Emily's because I knew she'd want you to come again. And things were going fine but then Truman disappeared again and Max and some of the football players were there because they knew the host of the party…"

She trailed off but Derek knew how it ended. It had been pretty obvious back then that Casey was lying to Nora, since Emily was going out with him later that night. But, all he did was say he was going to Sam's instead and he really should have gone after her. She said it right in front of him in the living room while he was watching 'Sportscentre' and it was like it was his turn to pull a brick in the 'Jenga' game they called their relationship. But, he just let her knock the tower down all by herself and did Casey really deserve that just because she decided she wanted to change the rules? He wasn't actually sure, and she was talking so he didn't get a chance to figure out why that bothered him.

"And I went over to talk to him and we started talking about high school. And the more we talked the more I realized how everything has changed and I just ended up kissing him. One of Truman's friends saw us and must have went and told him because he appeared and started yelling at me. I don't really remember what I said but I asked Max to drive me home."

He'd wait for the movie since even the abridged version was getting a little long in the tooth—and seriously? The writing team really needed to be kicked out on their ass—long in the tooth, that was the best they could come up with? Shaking his head, Derek grabbed Casey's hand and dragged her towards a bunch of balloons waiting for a pointy object.

He wasn't the greatest dart player—to put it gently he kind of sucked—but he was gonna try his best, then act like the outcome was exactly what he wanted. It was rule one and two of his entire existence combined.

"Derek, what are you doing?"

He grabbed the darts and took aim. It was just like hockey, sort of. The balloon was the net and the dart was the puck—and this really wasn't going anywhere, now that he thought about it.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm trying to win you your stupid bear," he scoffed, making sure to look forward and nowhere near her when he let his first dart go.

"Derek! You hit it!" she was screeching, jumping and clinging to his arm. Where was the faith, honestly?

"Shh, don't interrupt The Derek's concentration," he murmured, shaking off her grip on his arm relatively quickly.

Surprisingly, she shut up and he threw the next dart—hit, yes! His dart technique must have improved drastically because his next couple tosses went well too. It was when he was on his last dart that he chanced a look at Casey, and boy was that a mistake.

Her eyes were sparkling as she bounced on her toes excitedly, leaning forward and looking at the assortment of animals with a wide smile—and she looked so proud of him. He'd never had somebody feel that way about him, outside of a hockey rink, and he wasn't even doing anything that spectacular. Okay, considering his darts ability was abysmal maybe it was a little spectacular but not enough for a look like that, right? And he was realizing very quickly that if this was what it was like living amongst French Fries and long curly mustaches, he wanted it.

His last shot was a horrible flop, since he hadn't even looked at the target when he threw, but he won Casey a pretty big tiger. She seemed happy with it so he didn't bother for a do over. There was a store across the street he wanted to go into so he told Casey he was going to the washroom and doubled back. She was failing terribly at knocking over milk bottles so he had some time. Derek stuffed his purchase in his pocket and sprinted back just as Casey was receiving a booby prize—she really did throw like a girl.

"Case, I would ask you if you want to go on the Ferris Wheel but we all know how well that turned out last time."

She turned around holding a tiny zebra and his pretty big tiger, shaking her head. He supposed he could talk her into it because he would like to see her breathless again, but he decided against it at the last second.

"We should probably go back. It's getting late," she suggested instead and he motioned in front of him with his arm for her to lead the way.

There was a taxi stand a little ways up from the fair so they headed in that direction on foot. She was smiling and looking happier than he had seen her in a while—it made him feel good that he was the reason why. The tiger was lying down so its head was resting on the shoulder opposite him and the paws around her neck—he wondered if he should offer to help her.

"Here, let me help," he laughed and when she moved to hold out the pretty big animal, he took her tiny zebra.

She rolled her eyes but the slight twitch in her smile gave away how hard she wanted to laugh. They continued to walk in comfortable silence and Derek wondered if she was ever going to say anything. Usually he couldn't shut her up, and he had never wanted to hear a girl speak more—Casey sweeping the leg once again.

"Well, despite my reservations and how much I really didn't want to say this, I had fun."

His head snapped up and she was looking at him with a small slanted smile. Being his usual self, because anything else wasn't appropriate for a non-date, he preened with a smug smirk in response.

"I knew you were lying. It's only a matter of time before Derek's day of fun catches on worldwide."

"I dread the day," she sighed but she was smiling so he took it as a win for him.

Derek absently opened the cab door for her and she stumbled in with her usual grace and pretty big tiger. He wanted to laugh but shut the door instead and circled around to his side.

She felt asleep against the tiger during the ride back to the motel. It was only nine but her usual bedtime was nine-thirty, besides sleeping in the car wasn't that refreshing for the average person.

So he had finally hit full-blown Casey mania, he supposed it was only a matter of time really. She had always, in some way, been a fixation in his life from the pranking, the sabotaging and the trying to figure her out.

They lied when they said the destination didn't matter because it did, a lot. And with a journey that was far from over, since when dealing with Casey the road less travelled was a road that nobody had fuckin' heard of, he wondered if they'd arrive alive.

And his English teach said he wasn't poetic.


	14. Fourteen

**Sorry about the longer wait than usual. My birthday was Saturday and the whole week leading up to it was kind of busy. Anyways, thanks for all the kind words...and enjoy!**

**Fourteen**

They were in Vancouver and Derek was excited. He hadn't seen Sally in almost a year and he had cared so much about her at one point. Feelings like that didn't go away, they just changed—for the better in this case. He couldn't wait to see her.

Derek was driving since he had the directions and while normally Casey and Sam sitting side-by-side in front of Sonny and Cher might give him room for pause, Casey hadn't stopped staring at the gift he had given her for the entire drive. He had bought the album the song he had written on her palm was on and left it for her on the small table in their shared motel room while she was in the shower.

Derek might have not consciously known he was in love with her way back then but he had noticed the numerous times she had tried to hack into his laptop in search of the song after his iPod came up empty. He had been sleeping five feet away and Casey had about as much stealth ability as an elephant. So the scribbled message on a post-it note he found in the van—_For the girl who still can't break my password_—kinda brought the whole sappy package together. And really now, he was playing for keeps—Sam should know better.

She was confused and that was generally a good state for her to be in because when the inevitable conclusion came, he'd be ready. This was a situation that he had to tread lightly on because yes, they were stepsiblings, they pretty much kept a steady wall of fake hate between them for years and his best friend was in love with her but Casey herself had to be ready. And he was okay with waiting; he was still going to get what he wanted in the end because she had to love him—he was Derek Venturi and it was his story after all.

He glanced at the street sign to make sure he was looking at the right apartment building before pulling the van into the parking lot. Everyone was all too happy to file out and Sally had buzzed him up sounding about as excited as he was. When the blonde ripped open the door, her eyes widened at the number of people greeting her with tired eyes.

"Derek, Casey and…friends. Hello."

She chanced a quick look at Derek before stepping aside to let the weary travelers in. Her apartment was an Ikea catalogue—she always loved that shit. Her room in London had been the same way and he had spent many days struggling through the vague instructions given by the Swedish furniture chain. He liked the deep red on the walls though; it gave an exotic vibe to the already eclectic place.

"Derek, you didn't tell me you were bringing friends. I assumed Casey but….wow, a whole entourage. Things really haven't changed for you, have they?"

He preened slightly and she rolled her eyes, realizing he took her statement as a compliment. Really, he hadn't but he kind of didn't want to get into it with her at the moment, not when it was obvious she was dying to ask questions. Things had certainly changed and somehow she could tell.

"He didn't tell you we were coming, did he?"

That was Casey, tone of disapproval and all. And really, Sally had invited him, saying nothing about guests, he might add, so he took some liberties. He needed actors for his movie and Casey and Amanda weren't even supposed to be there.

"Well, he did promise to chase after me across the country in a van and he could never really do things alone, so I suppose it was implied. Don't worry about it, Casey."

Sally was smiling slightly at the inside joke that had plagued them since his faithful idea to drop out of high school and follow her to university. He was trying to be romantic—well, after the fact that was what he was calling it—he was never going to live it down.

"Do you know how much action that got me? Once news got out of you breaking my 'heart' after my romantic offer, I had girls throwing themselves at me for weeks."

He had said it to change the subject but surprisingly Sally got it because she was looking at him with apology written all over her face. He wondered when they learned this silent communication thing, since their romantic relationship never had that component. But, he decided not to ask in the present company—or ever really.

"Well, Derek, I'm so happy for you. Now, I wasn't expecting all of you obviously but we should be able to figure something out. What you see is basically what you get and the washroom is down the hall."

Sally was pointing in different directions when Amanda stumbled by her and collapsed on the couch with a groan. Ralph went after his girlfriend and started to rub her feet like the whipping boy he was—and really with what Derek had seen of Casey's love for torture he probably wouldn't be far behind after an acceptable amount of arguing against it.

"Um…right you're probably tired. I'll…get some blankets," Sally mumbled as puzzled as everyone else after their first meeting with Ralph's girlfriend.

Amanda raised her hand and started waving it. Since there was nobody around with a name she didn't know, Derek assumed she was trying to get somebody's attention—though with her, he could never be too sure.

"I'm Amanda, we've never met so now we have and don't worry about it. The couch is great."

Derek was sure she was trying to be nice but it just didn't really feel that way. Sally glanced at him and he shrugged in response because it really wasn't that important. Amanda probably already forgot there were other people in the room, well, beside her Ralphie and really, that was shiver worthy in itself.

"Um…alright. Does that mean the rest of you're up for a tour? I've got the day free so I can—"

"A tour sounds great," he exclaimed, clapping his hands together in a way that was totally manlier in his head.

Vancouver was a beautiful city, he had seen the pictures and he couldn't wait to start filming. Besides, he could think of worse ways to spend the rest of the day than with Casey and Sally—and Sam, right. But then, Casey was looking at Sally in this apologetic way and no—

"Can I get a rain check? I'm so tired after the drive and I feel so—"

"Casey," Sally interrupted, waving her hands back and forth to show she wasn't offended in any way. "I get it. No need to feel bad. We'll do something when you're ready. I know some great places for a girls day."

Hello, he was offended—didn't anyone care about that? And if Casey was staying that meant Sam was too. But, really what did he have to be worried about? His best friend wouldn't try anything; he was dealing with Sam after all. Right, this was totally okay.

"Well, Der, I guess it's just us," Sally voiced and he must have missed Sam's excuse to stay with Casey. It wasn't really that important anyway, he supposed.

"Yeah, lead on the guide of my tour," he exclaimed gesturing towards the door with his arms.

When she led him to a coffee shop, he was a little confused. They had a Starbucks back in London and it was really only a small one in the mall but it still counted. She was ordering some foamy caramel thing so he decided they were getting something for the road, until she sat down. Sally slid a cup across to him, looking at him expectantly and he was realizing that he'd been had—big time.

"Okay, I see you're going to make me drag it out of you, no problem. First, who the hell is Amanda and how did a nice guy like Ralph fall in love with her? Second, why was Sam glaring at you like he was hoping you'd melt into a puddle on the floor? Third and the most important question, why was Casey looking at you like you were a gift on Christmas morning she was not expecting?"

The stream of questions came out in a rush so Sally was out of breath and her face was red. It didn't mean she wasn't waiting for answers though, but really, it was bad enough going through his whole—slit my wrists stabby, rip, stab, stab—good time the first go-around. And he knew Sally; she'd use those drawn out sappy words reserved for puppies and babies—god, why was this happening to him?

"Amanda and Ralph are actually a good couple. She's pretty nice to him; it's just other people she has a problem with and she can't be all that bad if he picked her up by complimenting her shoes…or she could just really like shoes. I'm actually not really sure on that one."

So selective amnesia was this new thing he was trying. It didn't really work for his feelings for Casey but he had been keeping it up for years before the dam broke, so there was room for hope. They could just pick this conversation up again in three years and he'd worry about it then—yes, it seemed like an awesome plan to him.

"Well, it's nice Ralphie got a girl even if she is so…special. Now, the other two questions."

She was looking at him with this look that pretty clearly said he wasn't getting away without answering and the amnesia plan was definitely not working. And, he couldn't possibly be expected to think of another masterful plan under the emotional and physical turmoil of this whole freakin' road trip. Yep, he was giving in with one big sigh and a stream of curse words under his breath.

"The two questions kind of fall into one category on the Jeopardy board and if you're picking loving Casey for a thousand the answer would be: what is he does, I do and Casey, I'm not really sure."

"Ahh, I knew it!" she screeched and there went any chance of restraint this conversation might have had.

Sally was bouncing around like a basketball being abused by a toddler, complete with a wide smile and clapping hands. Her wavy curls were whipping around at mach speeds and she had effectively become the hurricane of his nightmares. And, he had finally admitted to somebody he…loved Casey—oh man, he was dead.

"I knew you loved her! This seriously just made my day!"

She was screeching again and he was just glad he could be of service. Because making Sally's day was just one big checkmark on one big frickin' list and his life was now complete. Forget the fact that his personal misery was the wind beneath her wings, yeah, lets just forget about that.

"Okay, sorry. There's no need to go all murderous face on me, I'm just happy for you. She's great for you, Derek. Why haven't you told her?"

The Psycho music was dying down but was she seriously asking him that question? Were they not talking about the same thing because he was pretty sure she'd be able to answer that question herself? But, she was looking at him curiously and oh my god they really were lost in translation.

"I can't believe you are seriously confused about this," Derek exclaimed and Sally's face continued using the clueless confused look that he wanted to yell at.

Instead of running into never return territory, there was another big sigh and more curse words to which Sally added a smile into the mix. Derek was sure he was going to kill her but somehow he ended up telling her exactly what she wanted to know.

"There are lots of reasons but lets start with the ones I don't necessarily care about but she definitely will. She's my stepsister, we've fake hated each other since the dawn of time and the fact that she was looking at me like I'm a misfit toy should put that one to bed, not to mention my best friend is in love with her. Do I need go on?"

"If you think you need to," she offered nonchalantly and the preverbal dam just busted wide open. Things started slipping out that his hands were useless to stop and she was looking at him like she knew this would happen all along.

"She cheated on Truman and it's obvious that any relationship she starts next will just be a means to get over that guilt. I want to be more than that and I know that sounds like another lie, but it's true."

He wasn't going to be Casey's smoke screen because look at how all those turned out. Max turned back to his messed up relationship with Amy, Noel pretty much dropped off the face of the earth and Sam was buying her ridiculous jewelry to guilt her into another chance. Derek wasn't a rebound; he was the puck in the back of the fucking net. End of story.

"Well, isn't that a bit egotistical?" Sally laughed wistfully as she leaned forward with her hands cupped in front of her on the table.

"What?" he murmured with a definite scathing edge—and he knew what egotistical meant, it was Casey's favourite word for a guy like him.

The question was all he could get out because Sally wasn't turning this around on him. He wouldn't let her, not for this. No matter what she said, he was right about this. Casey wouldn't mean to but she would chew him up, spit him out and act overly nice when it was all said and done. It was what she did, every single time. There was no way—

"Isn't that for her to decide? Because despite how much I know you know about her, isn't she the best judge of if she's ready for a relationship or not? Like you said, you're her stepsibling she pretends to hate whose best friend loves her. I don't think any girl, especially Casey, would get involved with that just for a rebound when there are other less risky options."

Derek wasn't sure exactly what she was trying to say but he could reluctantly admit that what he did understand had some merit. He was different than all of Casey's other boychumps because for one, he was way more awesome but he was also a bigger risk. He was Derek Venturi, his last name giving him a membership to the messed up blend of family leftovers after divorce got through eating. She wouldn't go near that unless it was worth it, and there was only one scenario he could see that happening in.

"And, just so I'm being clear because you must be confused if you're still here, when I said less risky options I meant—"

"Sally, I got to go. Thanks!"

He darted away from the table and was dodging coffee addicts looking for the door. How could he think it was a good idea to leave Sam with her alone? Hadn't he been there for the whole 'Sixteen Candles' comparison? Underwear, loveable dork, Molly Ringwald—he freakin' made it up.

His phone beeped and apparently Sally was wishing him luck. It was hard to read the whole text since he was dodging pedestrians and sidewalk cracks but he got the gist of it. And, he kind of really needed the luck, though breaking his mother's back was bad too.

Derek skidded to a stop outside of Sally's door, running a hand through his hair and trying not to look breathless. This was it, don't freak out—Derek was totally freaking out and not following the clear rules he set for himself since his conception.

He threw opened the door and thankfully Ralph and Amanda were nowhere to be found, he'd think about what exactly that meant later because he was currently distracted by Casey and Sam flying off the couch like it had suddenly combusted into flame. Derek was about to say something to that effect but then he saw it: the necklace hanging around Casey's neck.

She looked guilty, Sam looked smug and he, well, Derek slammed the door on his way out.


	15. Fifteen

**Ah, one more after this and then this ride is moving on to bigger and better theme parks. This one's pretty long though, so enjoy!**

**Fifteen**

He had somehow become that guy, and while it generally made musicians the big bucks, Derek wasn't expecting a world tour in sold out hockey arenas anytime soon. Because, his band wasn't all that great and his bass player and him were kind of on the outs, not to mention his inability to write something meaningful unless you were talking ten words or less about a relationship that was not over. And maybe, he could name three successful two-person bands if he really thought about it but him and Ralph; they weren't the revolutionary divorced couple that pretended to be related even if he squinted very hard.

Who knew luring the girl in with cheap jewelry and creepy stalkeratzi longing worked way better than it sounded? He certainly didn't, hence the increased number of plays angry break up songs were getting on his iPod. And while that worked for a while, he found that he couldn't really identify with their pain because he never got a chance to have things to be angry about. So he threw himself into his work—or more accurately finding the final shots for his story.

Vancouver was a big place and for the past couple days he had been using that in his favour. He was out of Sally's apartment before anyone woke up and ignoring Casey's calls until everyone was asleep. Derek hadn't listened to any of her messages yet and he cursed the bright-eyed genius at the phone company who decided to make it mandatory to listen to a message in order to delete it. That kind of defeated the whole purpose of 'screening calls' in his opinion, but hey, he was just spit balling.

His interview was next week, as Nora had generously called to remind him. Sally was excited for him—she had been helping him out with the whole movie thing over apple pie during her breaks at the restaurant she worked at. Since he couldn't realistically put together a movie without a script and method actors, he was making a trailer to a would-be movie that could just make it into DVD players across the country one day soon.

He had to say; he was genuinely surprised at how well the editing process was going. It seemed like everything he had filmed was exactly what he needed. His last full public feature had been 'How the McDonald-Venturi's Saved the Rainforest' and really he was man enough to admit it wasn't amazing. But, the idea had been there; Derek couldn't dispute that. He had tried his best with the time frame and the crap Casey had given him before her all night freak-out about a failing grade. Yeah, you're welcome, Casey—not that he ever heard any thanks.

The whole gang was leaving tomorrow, and Derek wouldn't be going with them. He'd fly back for the interview and make the round trip for the rest of the summer with what was left of his Black Jack winnings. Sally thought he was overreacting but wouldn't say it to him, not when she was trying to be supportive. She gave him lots of free pie and questionable glances he could ignore instead.

"Derek? Hello?"

Sally was snapping her fingers in front of his face and he was really out of it if the fork hanging out of his mouth was anything to go by. Right, he had been stuffing his face with baked apple goodness to kill time until she got off work. They had plans to go somewhere, he wasn't sure—

"Good, you're alive. Listen, I know this is your time of need and all but do you think we can do a re-plan on the whole plans thing we had planned?" she asked brightly but the guilt clouding over the sky in her eyes gave away how bad she felt for asking.

Derek just kept blinking and staring at her. He wasn't exactly sure why because he had loads to say, lots of protests laced with a little guilt tripping for good measure just to make sure he had something to do until Casey's bedtime. But, Sally was now looking at him with such a pleading expression and he wondered what was so—

"Carson…my boyfriend. Derek we've talked about this," she sighed and he was nodding like he knew what was going on. She really needed to stop interrupting his thoughts too if she wanted him to be apart of this conversation—and he was back.

"Yes, yes, boyfriend Carson. Met him while he was auditing your Psych class, art major with dreams of opening his own tattoo parlor, looks like Tommy Lee way-way-way before hepatitis. Totally with you, Sals."

She looked skeptical and he was just thankful his sugar rush subsided enough for him to provide something useful to the discussion. Derek was never eating pie for three days straight ever again, no matter how good and how free it was.

"Right, so, he got the night off and we haven't been out on a real date for so long and—"

"I'm fine, go," he exclaimed, secretly happy he was doing the interrupting this time.

Sally smiled sadly and when he knew she was going to offer to stay, Derek pushed her out of the booth they were sharing. He was being noble, no, just a good friend. She had put up with the black hole of despair that was his personality for the last three days and she deserved love a lot more than he did.

And when she told him she'd have her cell phone on all night if he needed her, that was when he decided this whole—mopey, why won't you love me—shtick of his had to end. He was done avoiding them—Casey—and he was done feeling sorry for himself because the truth of the matter was: it was Casey and Sam.

Sam was his best friend and while Derek never really had any respect for his dating prowess, he wanted the best for him—like any friend would. Maybe Casey was really where she belonged when she was next to Sam. He didn't like the idea of backing down but you take the hit because you care about somebody—or at least that was what he had gathered after seeing Sam do it for him with every single girl they had ever known. And the relationship deserved another shot—maybe—and if it's what they wanted, he'd be supportive—that's what he's supposed to do, right? Sam and Casey would be happy and he'd just have to suck it up. Him and Casey wouldn't have worked out anyways—there was just too much.

The apartment was dark when he walked in. Sally worked until closing and he had wandered around for a couple hours after that. Vancouver was perfect; Derek could see the appeal even under the stars and harsh lights of the nightlife. It made him wonder why he never applied to University there and condemned himself to 'same difference' the roommate in Kingston. Sure, Queen's was the only university to accept him but schools out of Ontario could've, he just never tried.

It wasn't a confidence factor, since applying for colleges in the first place were just Hail Mary attempts and he had definitely thought about it after all of Sally's emails regarding how great life was so far away from London. But, when the time came, he had applied close to home, Queen's being the furthest he strayed. He could lie, say it had everything to do with his family, but he felt like being honest with himself—for once. The thought of losing Casey and their 'whatever it was' being reduced to the odd weekend and major holidays, terrified him. And since the ball was already rolling—it still did.

But, Sam had won Casey and as Derek stumbled towards the couch in the dark, he realized it was all his fault. His games had cost him something he was pretty sure he'd regret a lot longer than a little while. He made excuses because he didn't want to end up without her and the funny thing was, this kind of felt like the same thing. She had warned him about this, back when he was chasing after Sally, and he never really knew what Casey meant, even when he thought he'd lose Sally forever. But it was crystal clear now and Casey listened to enough Alanis Morissette for him to know how ironic that was.

"Derek?"

A lamp switched on and he almost ran out the door. There was Casey wrapped in a blanket on Sally's arm chair—her eyes piercing through the dark and drawing him effortlessly forward. She was standing now, in a sweater and that pink pajama number he had made fun of in the motel so long ago, clutching a Discman so the earphones tumbled down brushing across her calf like a metronome.

"Yeah…hi," he mumbled as his eyes unconsciously followed the white cord back and forth. Seriously, who the hell used a Discman anymore?

Casey pulled them up in an awkward fumble of hands and he wondered why she was nervous. Her tell was always her hands—they never got it right and were half the reason she was a horrible liar. She'd fumble with her hair or the imaginary lint on her shirt. If there was nothing around she'd find something to pretend to organize and when there was nothing left they'd tremble just like they were doing now that she tossed the Discman behind her on the chair.

"I…I haven't seen you in a while," she murmured and he was surprised she even noticed just like every time her name flashed on the display of his phone.

Not for the first time, he wished he could hear her thoughts or know what to say so she'd tell them to him. Of course, listening to her messages—or even answering the phone—probably would have helped with that but Derek wasn't going to split hairs when there were still other available places to blame.

"I've been busy with my movie."

He said it because it was true. Something about this conversation felt familiar and he knew they hadn't had it before. It was the way she looked at him, the timid timbre of her voice, the crazy hands attacking her shirt and slowly sliding around her waist. Derek found himself not wanting to lie and omitting parts of the truth wasn't the same thing when she didn't ask.

"Oh…um…how's that going?"

The feeling was getting stronger and he felt like he should be looking around for black cats for fun. Casey was actively trying to keep the conversation going and why hadn't she yelled at him yet for screening her calls? It looked like they were playing 'Clue' again, and couldn't she pick another damn board game? 'Same difference,' the roommate, since he refused to be her brother, didn't have that in the job description but he was sure Sam did—wherever he was.

"It's fine. I'm going to bed. You take the couch, I'm gonna camp out on Sally's floor."

He was leaving her behind and it oddly felt good—liberating almost. Sure, Derek was only putting a couple feet between them and a flimsy plywood door but it was the principle of the whole thing—or at least that was what he was sticking too. He was almost at the hall when she started to talk. Why couldn't she just—

"Why are you avoiding me? I've been calling you and…" she trailed off and Derek had to stare his feet down to make sure they didn't turn around when she sounded so sad. "I just…is this because of Sam?"

Derek wanted to turn around, but he didn't want to answer her so what was left after that? He needed time to get to a place where he didn't feel like target practice for heavy fists and then maybe there could be something else. He needed to walk away because he didn't know what else to do.

He made it to Sally's room but Casey was slamming the door behind him, giving him no room to breath. The bang was like striking a match because everything was on fire and nobody was there but her. Derek was London Bridge and…and she was whatever blew it all up.

"No, no! You don't get to walk away! I'm tired of being…"

He zoned out as she continued screaming and shaking her head so her hair was whipping around like samurai swords and daggers. Derek didn't want to get too close but there were gashes on his chest that just wouldn't stop bleeding and what was the point when he was already hit? Everything smelt like peaches and tasted sweet and sour—she just kept yelling and cutting so damn deep. He just want to rip that necklace off and—

"The necklace. You're not wearing it."

Derek knew he interrupted her in the middle of something she must have thought was important but whatever it was paled in comparison to this. She reached up to the bare skin of her neck; lightly running her fingertips over the spot the tacky charm should be resting on like a scarlet letter for only him to see. But, it wasn't there and she almost looked guilty.

"I…um…I gave it back," she mumbled red faced and looking anywhere but at him.

She gave it back…what did that mean? Sally would know, but Sally was probably somewhere earning her own necklaces—he didn't really want to ruin her chances when he only ever gave her a crappy love song he didn't even sing to her. Derek was on his own so he was going to do something totally crazy and ask because the rules to their usual games were in shambles. He had no more moves left anyways—all the master plans he hadn't used involved running out the door Casey was currently blocking.

"Why?" The question sounded so foreign, maybe a little bit strange but it was out there now—Derek couldn't take it back.

Her eyes snapped back to his and he waited because he had no clue what was expected of him in this situation. Derek had asked but he'd never done that before. All those other times she had come stomping down the stairs with various items clasped in her hands, he had said nothing when she burst through the door hours later without them. Sam, Max, Truman—they all seemed to be reduced to material possessions but this time was different. He needed to know why.

"I told him it wouldn't be fair to both of us to go through a relationship again just to break up."

"You'd break up," he mumbled with a slight wondrous tone he would have hated if he knew it was there.

Derek hadn't meant to say anything; he just hadn't thought this was a possibility and saying it out loud didn't help it make anymore sense. Casey giving the necklace back after she accepted it wasn't all that foreign. She had done it before with Sam's other one but that wasn't the same, it couldn't be. But, she had said it was and maybe he was actually wrong. This time really wasn't any different than the last and where did his breath go?

"I don't love him," she finally whispered as her arms slowly dropped to her side and her eyes started to plead for something he knew he had this time. "I don't want to fight, please."

Casey couldn't say it. She was begging for a reason but wouldn't let herself ask again. They finally caught up to each other—their race to nowhere in particular was finally over—and they were standing at a crossroads for the first time since that faithful day he had decided to run in her opposite direction. She wanted the truth and he wanted, well, her but what road did that translate into?

She was looking at him with hopeful eyes gooey like needy chocolate chip cookies and then something happened. Her shoulders slumped, she looked away and what had he done now? There were unshed tears and something broke that shouldn't have because he felt too invested in wiping those tears away.

"Nevermind," she whispered and Derek didn't want to listen to her but didn't know if it was possible, not to when she was giving him an out. "I thought that…I should have known that the truce was too good to be true. I…"

Her voice cracked and she turned to leave. The part of him that was coiled so tight unraveled and he felt like he was going to be sick. She was leaving and Derek didn't want her too—he just couldn't give her that moment. His heart staining the white fabric of his sleeve was a tactical nightmare he couldn't risk. She could crush him, knock his heart to the floor and stomp on it all in a matter of seconds until he was just the gum on the bottom of her shoe.

He promised himself it wouldn't happen again, the dagger that twisted every time his mother showed her face was a lesson he was still paying for. His dad made mistakes but she left him behind—just like he knew Casey would. Sure, university bound them for now, but it wouldn't last, not when opportunities came knocking on the door she had been waiting her whole life to open.

"I…" he blurted out, effectively stopping her and turning her around. "I…I don't know what you want me to say."

She sighed and he was terrified he messed up because he hadn't actually said anything at all. Derek watched her hands run through her hair, clenching every so often displaying the frustration they were both feeling, and he didn't know what to do.

"Tell me something, Derek because I'm beginning to think that this is just too hard," she admitted sadly, gesturing tiredly between them with her hands. "I'm beginning to think that this isn't…"

She trailed off but he didn't need her to finish—always the nice girl, huh, Casey? He wasn't worth it, just like that she wanted to give up and now Derek knew he was right. She'd leave and he'd be left with…everything that was stopping him from telling her what she wanted to hear.

Still, he was trying his best, and he knew she never thought it was good enough but Derek felt like it should count for something. This wasn't easy and he felt like he should be cut a little slack, what with finding the love of his life at fifteen and just realizing it—ready or not here your step sister comes.

"You know, what?" he growled, his tone born of nothing but frustration. "You can't just…decide it's time for answers just because it's Monday and you don't want to try anymore. It's always about you, isn't it? You expect people to jump when you tell them too but you know what, I don't feel like fuckin' jumping, alright!"

He wasn't sure what exactly this was. It felt a little like stalling—and sure, that was what it was—but then what did he expect was going to happen when he ran out of things to yell about? There was a long list, Derek knew Casey would stay for all of it but then she'd still leave when he didn't give her what she wanted so shouldn't he just get this over with?

"And…and, I'm not the one that should be sharing things. Maybe you should start by telling me why what I do is so important to you? It wasn't important before since you would've listened to me when I told you Truman was a lying, cheating bottle of salad dressing. But, he could do no wrong, not when he comes up with a lame ass apology every time he acts like an asshole. I guess it didn't matter that Emily lost a best friend, Lizzie lost a sister, your mom was worried she'd have to bail you out of jail and…you lost yourself, once again."

Apparently stalling was officially his game plan and maybe he kind of wanted to know before things went sour. His heavy breathing filled the room and Casey was looking down, trying to avoid the entire situation by evading eye contact. Derek wasn't sure what he was supposed to do next, but she wasn't moving so he wasn't going to say anything.

"I'm…I didn't…"

Casey didn't finish but he knew he had pushed too far. She wasn't going to leave, but he had effectively broken what was left of the façade from Truman. Looking at the floor and hugging herself so tightly, Casey had finally landed in the midst of all the mistakes she had been running from since fencing became foreplay. Great, what was he supposed to do when she started—nevermind. The tears had arrived and he was the only warrior left standing on the battlefield.

"I…can you stop doing that…please?" he mumbled, shifting from foot-to-foot and anxiously scratching an invisible itch on his fore arm.

It didn't seem to work and really, it was his fault he was in this mess. So Derek found himself stumbling towards her until he was a step away and now he was at a loss. But, he knew he had to say something because the crying was getting worse and louder.

"I didn't mean to…I was angry…I'm…sorry?" he rambled and when she looked up at him, he wondered if she was expecting him to hug her.

Surprisingly, Casey didn't seem to be in the hugging mood since her arms were still wrapped around her waist—that was a relief. But, there were still so many tears mixing with her mascara, falling so fast down her face and with all the crying she did you'd think she'd buy something waterproof, right?

"You meant it, Derek," she whispered and he wondered if he heard her right. "You don't have to do this, okay."

Casey gestured around weakly with her hand and he was confused by what that meant. She couldn't possibly think he'd leave her like this after everything that had happened—everything he had said…or didn't say, more implied really.

"Don't be dumb, Casey," he scoffed, stepping back so he could get a better look at her and away from her tears before he chickened out completely. "I'm not that much of an asshole."

She smiled slightly and reached up to wipe her eyes with the edges of the sweater she was wearing. He'd offer his shirt but it was his favourite one and on closer inspection she was already ruining his sweatshirt. What did she do, rifle through his duffle bag for something to cry on? That was kind of creepy but he wasn't about to tell her that, at least not yet.

"Did you foresee having to ruin a shirt with that goop you put on your face and picked mine for kicks?" he questioned, gesturing to her upper body with his hand.

She looked down at the sweater and back up at him sheepishly, quickly shaking her head. "I didn't know it was yours until I put it on and I forgot to take it off before you got back."

Well, that statement was as convoluted as they come, but she had stopped crying so that was something. He didn't really know where to start and he had already spent too much time wandering aimlessly through a 'Tears for Fears' album so he decided to start off easy.

"What were you doing that distracted you so much that you forgot to take it off?"

Casey looked relieved and now he really wanted to know why she was wearing it in the first place. And he was really getting soft when he didn't immediately ask her that instead. But, at least now he knew she was lying when she said she didn't know it was his—though, it had been kind of obvious.

"I listened to the song you gave me," she voiced as casually as a Casey could and that wasn't the answer he'd been expecting, though the Discman was making a lot of sense now. "Short Shirt, Long Jacket. Is that really the girl you want?"

And, he briefly wondered what type of game she was playing at. Casey was actively forgetting her burning question and subsequent breakdown of five minutes ago so that she could ask him about the song he gave her. It kind of seemed like an unhealthy de-escalation to him but hey, he didn't want to go back there either.

"No," he admitted. "That's not the girl I want."

She looked surprised and he supposed the song did describe some of the personality traits of his usual type of girl. But, now the girl had a name and while some of the lyrics in the song could be attributed to Casey, some of them couldn't so he wasn't going to elaborate like he knew she wanted him to. Casey was just going to have to ask and he was wondering if she would when she did.

"So you don't want a girl with a short skirt and a lonnnng jacket?" she inquired taking a step towards him and smirking triumphantly.

Casey was making fun of him and he found himself kind of offended. She'd accept a cheap necklace from Sam and probably openly gushed about it before deciding to give it back. But his gift, all he got was laughter at his expense, not even a thank you. Yeah, it was kind of cheesy but was an initial pendant necklace any better?

"Do you think this is funny?" he asked her and she stopped dead in her tracks, shaking her head earnestly.

"No, I—"

"Don't okay. I get it," he growled, shaking his head at his own stupidity. "Just forget it."

And he felt bad—horrible actually like somebody was repeatedly stabbing his already slashed up chest—but for the first time during this entire ordeal, he felt like there was a game over. He had the high score and he welcomed anyone to try to beat it—he'd gladly give up the crown to the next person stupid enough to try. Thanks for playing the game and all that crap.

She didn't like him like that and that was fine—he just needed to walk away before she said anything to make it worse. Once he was in the hallway, Derek was able to breathe a little easier even with his heart leaking into his chest cavity. It was an odd phenomenon that he—

"Derek, wait," Casey called out and for the love of god people needed to stop interrupting him. He was quite witty if he was ever allowed to finish a damn thought.

And, yes, it was kind of pathetic that he stopped but everybody had their shortcomings, even him. So, Derek waited and he could hear her breathing behind him while he stared down his feet just like before to make sure that they wouldn't dare move to turn around. Casey seemed to catch on quick that he wasn't going to indulge her anymore because she started in on a stream of consciousness that would put the doctors that declared her a functioning psychotic to shame.

"I didn't mean to make fun of you, I just didn't know how to…didn't think you were serious when you said…and I didn't want to assume the wrong thing. But now, I think you mean it and I still don't know…can you please just look at me?"

Derek was more confused then Casey at this point because her ramble made no sense at all. He didn't want to but he turned around and waited for her ramble to continue, hopefully with some answers. It didn't and after all her work to get him to turn around; she was looking at the floor. Friggin' Casey—couldn't she not be the weirdest frickin' girl alive for once and make some damn sense?

"I hope you know that I didn't understand a word of that," he sighed, resisting the urge to reach up and rub his temples.

This was getting too tiring and he just couldn't put it on the shelf for a rainy day. They were stuck with each other for a pretty long time and he really didn't think they could last with the way their current interaction was going. And as he thought about it, he realized he probably couldn't survive much longer with watching from afar until she needed someone to pick her back up again either. So that really only left two options but they both had the same result because she was out of his life no matter which way he chose.

But, Derek kind of wanted her to know, and he begrudgingly admitted to himself that she deserved to know why before he left her life forever. At least then, she wouldn't be walking on glass and being stupid for him, when it wasn't her fault. And he looked at her, really looked, at the tired blue of her eyes. There was so much need in them like open wounds leaking with tears, and he knew that he'd have to take the biggest hit of his life right where it would hurt the most.

"I didn't answer your calls because I thought you were with, Sam," he admitted and watched helplessly as his heart tumbled down to his sleeve. "And…I couldn't face that because I want to be with you."

Derek finally said it and he felt like he was the target for an expert marksman two hundred yards away sent to put him out of his misery. A feeling swept through him that felt oddly like acceptance and he was a prisoner on death row waiting for execution. Closing his eyes, he waited patiently for the searing pain of being shot because maybe he could finally feel something different or better yet, nothing at all.

But then, he felt such a soft sensation; he wondered if he was imaging it because being shot definitely wasn't like this. His eyes snapped open and Casey was in front of him, running her fingertips all over the soft skin of his face. She was leaning closer and what the hell was—

Her lips tentatively touched his and he wasn't sure what to do when all he could hear was her voice whispering, "I want to be with you too."


	16. Sixteen

**Sixteen**

When he was twelve two women were moving in across the street and Derek, being well, Derek, spent the day on the lawn watching the women carry in box after box from the moving truck out front. It was pretty hot for August and they were pretty hot for adults so Derek decided it was a perfect way to spend the day.

His father pulled in the driveway hours later, fresh from work and Derek didn't notice him until his dad slid in next to him on the lawn chair Sam had used until he had to leave for a doctor's appointment. Of course it didn't take long for George to figure out what was so appealing about the front lawn and he stood again, laughing loudly.

Derek looked up and his father clasped his shoulder before he said, "Son, if there's one thing I know it's that when U-Hauls are involved women generally aren't interested."

His dad went inside—still laughing way too loud—and Derek went back to watching because it wasn't like he was going to offer to help or anything. And of course after a while, he figured out his father was trying to be funny but if you took the joke out of it, he was kind of right. Moving in with somebody was a big deal and U-Hauls represented that.

So as he looked at the one on his side of the street with his whole family filling it up, Derek realized this meant a whole lot more than fleeing the familiar nest for college. This was his 'big deal' at nineteen years old and it was the only one he'd ever have. Because Casey wasn't just a maybe, she was a make it work or else kind of deal.

Derek walked back inside, deciding Casey could handle rallying the troops for a bit while he took a breather on the deck in the backyard. The deck chairs were one of those cheap kinds with the ugly coloured plastic straps looped around flimsy metal. With the money that had been saved to fix up the backyard going towards his new brother or sister, the scenery was still just overgrown grass and a dead vegetable garden. It was okay though, he was used to it by now.

The news of the baby had worried him a bit but excitement was infectious. Once Marti got over baby talk, everybody was looking forward to the end of nine months and he just ended up forgetting about it. Sure a half sibling would make his thing with Casey even more complicated but it already was no matter what. So putting blame on the baby when things were already crazy just didn't really seem right to him. He probably surprised them all when he offered up his room as home base for a nursery but he didn't feel the need to explain himself—he just wanted the baby to have it.

The deck creaked when he sat down and its foundation must've been pretty rotten after weathering the elements for such a long time. It was supposed to be his father's pet project after his parents bought the house, or at least that was what his mom claimed every time she used the fact it wasn't finished in arguments. The tire swing was there though and it was still standing, swaying in the breeze on the limb of the old maple tree Edwin fell out of when he was five. Maybe it meant something that Derek had asked for it and the swing was the only thing his father ever completed.

In a couple hours this would be officially his childhood home—though technically it always was, he just never referred to it that way. It was weird and a little bit scary to leave such a comfortable safety net behind. He owned this town—he was the Ferris Bueller of London and people backed his play no matter what. But, the devoted boyfriend who played hockey and carried around a camera—what kind of reputation was that?

And yet, Derek was going just because Casey was. It was all she ever talked about—them being on their own in a new place where no one knew their name and all he could do was make fun of her for the 'Cheers' reference because he hadn't known what to say. Everyday since they got back to London there had been a new challenge—the telling people, the shopping for their apartment and the time with everybody before they went away—it left him with no time to think for himself, until now.

And the more the impending move approached, the more Derek wanted to stay because he knew it wasn't fair to her to be putting one foot in when Casey had clearly cannon balled off the side. He really hadn't thought she'd want to be with him at all after his confession. So many scenarios went through his head during that brief moment before he told her what she wanted to hear and none of them came close to what actually happened. Her lips touched his and ever since he had been stuck in a whirlwind of disoriented and off kilter.

Sally figuring it out over soggy Cornflakes the morning after just cranked up the speed of his motion sickness. With the choice of a clandestine romance stripped away from them, everything just went down hill from there.

He hadn't seen Sam since the mad scramble in Vancouver to make him understand—long story short, he didn't—there was just a lot of bitterness. It sucked that it turned out that way but he understood that sometimes things needed to be worse before they could get better. And Derek was prepared to wait because they've been friends too long to let this be the iceberg that sunk them.

On the other hand, Ralph and Amanda didn't really have any problems, which was something—sort of—and their sibs were cool with it too after Lizzie made it clear Edwin was not her type. The parentals had been a bit more complicated, since telling them almost gave Casey a heart attack but they didn't really have much to say beyond a warning of what failure would cost the family. And, now everybody knew—the whirlwind was dying down and the chance to figure everything out was coming many weeks too late.

He was trying but the only thing that was glaringly obvious was that he needed to come up with some kind of game plan very quickly. And it had to be the right one because a lot of people had a personal interest in making sure the Casey and Derek moving van left for Kingston in high spirits. The problem was that outside of retribution, Derek never had to do this before and he was realizing that getting back at people was a whole lot easier.

What was worse was that he knew this was his fault. Somehow, in all the thoughts about a relationship with Casey, the end game never came to mind and he didn't know if he could catch up in time. He just hadn't thought it was possible and yet he was going to University as Casey's boyfriend.

The school loved his portfolio, especially the movie. They threw around words praising the film's idea and somehow they thought it was relatable—but really who in their right mind thought that about Casey? The story was about a girl from a guy's point-of-view and the guy was always looking on from the shadows behind the camera. So many moments of her life flashing before his eyes and he was trying like crazy to put it all together. Apparently that was ambiguous—Derek wasn't sure because his dictionary was in a box somewhere.

The family celebrated and Casey was still unsuccessful in finding a copy of the movie, since he wouldn't let her watch it. The whole two minutes gave his three-worded secret away and he wanted to at least attempt to say it to her first. But, that was kind of the problem—he couldn't.

It wasn't a matter of not being sure or fearing embarrassment. His rules about feelings were kind of hypocritical now, since she knew they were lies and he didn't really care too much about what people thought anyways. But, all that didn't count because he still tensed up at the mere thought of actually saying the words. It didn't make any sense and maybe it was the combination of a crappy chair in his shitty backyard because it was quickly becoming a whole lot clearer.

This house was full because of failed relationships. Nora had enough of being second to work and his father got caught screwing his law secretary. He and Casey hadn't even been on a real date yet and if two different couples that were married with children could self-destruct so easily—what did that say about his chances?

He loved her and she didn't know how much because he hadn't told her. She was waiting for it; since Casey never ever gave in first but even if she did, Derek wasn't sure if he could give her what she wanted. Things were going great between them but he just couldn't let go of past experience. He didn't want to look at the odds and take the under because the scores in previous games weren't so high. But, history had its own saying about repeating itself so how was he going to dispute that? Derek was sure his parents were all gung-ho about their relationship in high school but look what happened to that. He lived though it once and he didn't think he could do it again, especially with Casey.

Quitting wasn't an option though, not after his families blessing with another member on the way. Derek was selfish but he was sure the word for doing that wasn't even close. The swollen with pride tower his father had been steadily building since the conditional acceptance into Queen's was nice—his dad was finally really proud of him for something outside of a hockey rink. They bought University sweatshirts and Derek pretended all the stories his dad had about college were cool, sort of like the birthday he was re-gifted the Prince. And as lame as it was, he didn't want to ruin it.

But more than that, giving up meant hurting Casey and somehow that became more important than anything else. He wouldn't do it and that defining moment Derek had been looking for when he realized he was in love—well, it was happening right now. Unfortunately, the bright lights, the stunt double for cartwheels and the wind machine weren't in the budget but the startling revelation was going in for the kill.

He was still afraid of losing her, even though he already had her and making excuses was what almost cost him Casey in the first place. Still, he was trying to do it again and he might be slowly going crazy if his brain thought that this time would be any different. She said she wanted to be with him and that was enough—no more excuses to avoid the pool because he hated being slippery when wet.

Love was making it work with what you've got and never forgetting it. Derek wasn't going to have any problems recalling something he had spent a month and a half thinking about, since he didn't usually consider anything for very long. That put him pretty close to even with Casey—he was officially in the water and sinking fast.

His break was over and he went inside the house, just barely dodging Marti who was dragging a box through the kitchen to a waiting Edwin in the living room. What Nora packed from the kitchen, Derek didn't want to know, nor did he want to help. Lizzie was hiding out at the bottom of the stairs listening to his father's unsuccessful attempts to convince Nora he needed a break so Derek easily slid by unnoticed. He finally found Casey outside, impatiently waiting in the back of the moving van hugging the checklist to her chest she had spent all week perfecting. He picked up a box near the door and walked out with his peace offering clearly displayed for his girlfriend to see.

She glared at him the whole way and when he was walking up the ramp of the van she decided to lay into him. "Now you help, when everything is almost done."

Derek placed the box down in the section of boxes clearly labeled 'Casey' in big black block letters and smiled brightly. "Moral support is all the help one needs to be spectacular."

She rolled her eyes and pulled the checklist away from her chest, running her pen down the page before flipping it up so she could repeat the process with the next one. It didn't take long for her frustration to bubble over and Casey was stomping over to the box he just put down in no time. The struggle then began to open it, which was highly amusing because she didn't fair too well.

When she turned to look at him, he raised an eyebrow in question and she was too exasperated to ignore it. "Aren't you going to help me?"

Derek pretended to look scandalized by the mere suggestion—making his eyes go wide, dropping his mouth open and bringing a hand to his chest— before he said, "You know rule 556 in the dating Casey handbook forbids it! I would never do such a thing."

Her expression didn't look amused and Derek was having a tough time keeping his laughter at bay. But when she didn't say anything, he took it upon himself to fill her in on rule 556. "Thy boyfriend shall be conscious of my emotional needs as an independent woman or else," he scoffed, mimicking the rule in a high-pitched voice that made the almost insult his own. "It definitely sounds like something you'd say, oh wait, you did say it when I ordered you a milkshake from the McDonald's drive-thru without asking you first."

"Whatever, just help," she sighed and Derek decided not to listen as usual.

Instead, he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder so he could look down at the clipboard. There were so many numbers and letters, not to mention she went crazy with a highlighter—god she was weird.

"You're really weird, you know that right?" he mumbled and smirked when he heard her sigh in defeat.

"Why can't you just do what I ask for once?"

Derek took a moment to think it over before reaching up and extracting the pen from her grasp. She didn't give it up easily but he managed to move the pen to the top of the page so he had space to write. Derek knew she couldn't see what it said because of the way his hand was positioned and the fact that he knew it was bothering her put a smile on his face.

Finally, he moved his hand and like he knew she would, Casey read it out loud. "I love you…wh—"

"Why thank you, Casey. I love you too," he exclaimed brightly before turning the now stiff body around in his arms. "You know, I never expected for you to say it first but—"

"You idiot!" she screeched before she started whacking his shoulder with the clipboard. "I did not say it first! You tricked me! It doesn't count!"

He let go of her, smirking at the infuriated look on her face because bothering Casey never got old. "You can't take it back, it's out there now…unless you don't mean it. How could you do something so awful?"

He was playing of course, but there was some part of him that felt like he jumped the gun a little bit. He didn't think he read the signals wrong all the times she'd start to say it and barely stopped herself when they stayed up late talking. They'd been together officially for a couple weeks now—a month next week—and it had happened more than three times. Once you got passed three it was generally too late to call it a mistake, right?

"Of course I mean it," she scoffed at the very insinuation and he watched as she finally clued in on what exactly she was yelling at him for. "You…you love me?"

"Did I say that? Because I don't re…" He stopped because she was looking so unsure and the clipboard went back to her chest just so she could hug her waist. Shaking his head, he stepped forward and pried the board from her hands to toss on the stack of boxes behind her. Her arms were still crossed over her chest so he gently put his hands on her elbows and smiled. "Of course I love you, Casey."

Her blue eyes were wide and Derek tried to ignore the tears forming the best he could. Casey wouldn't look away from him so he silently waited her out with patience he stole from somewhere expensive. Seconds ticked away and Derek was one tick away from flying over the Coo-Coo's nest—he had to do something.

So he released her arms and started turning his hands in the classic way he usually used to emphasize questions. "Are you still unsure because I can take it back—"

Now her hand was covering his mouth and he wondered how much more crazy she could manage to fit into the scene. She just kept staring at him and he was about to lick her hand when she finally started talking. "No, I'm not unsure, I know I love you. I was just—"

He used his finger to shut her up—which was obviously much more manly—but, she was already opening her mouth to begin another ramble of asylum proportions so it was on to Plan B.

"Leave some crazy for everybody else, huh?" he teased and quickly kissed her before she could think of another way to ruin the mood.

And, he kind of liked knowing he'd be around for many more killed moments to come because they had to work—he was turning this baby into a franchise.

**The End  
**

* * *

_Well, this is it and thank god it's over! I'm easily distracted by shiny things so the mere fact that 'The End' actually made it onto the page probably had a lot to do with the friend I wrote this for and some of the awesome reviews I received. It's been fun and thanks for reading._

A.


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